


love and war in the wild kingdom

by artemis_west, lilypaws



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - No Exy, Alternate Universe - Original, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Consent, Gangs, Just slightly, M/M, Mild Smut, Original Character(s), Out of Character, not enough to like make you not want to read it i think, please read it i'm really proud of this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-10 19:05:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13507881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemis_west/pseuds/artemis_west, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilypaws/pseuds/lilypaws
Summary: The Foxes are the most renowned gang in Columbia, doing black-market jobs for staggering amounts of money that keeps them well-fed and living nicely. One day, they are hired for a job they can't say no to. It's Neil's idea, really. He won't let them turn it down.But maybe he should have.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> THE BITCH IS BACK WITH A NEW FIC ok listen i've been working on this since december and i'm really really proud of it. this is an AU entirely based on one of my own original stories. the characters and situations are adjusted to fit the plot of my original story, but you'll see most of the familiar faces you know from AFTG, plus one new original character (but he fits in - you'll see). get ready because this motherfucker clocks in at 53 pages as a single-spaced doc.

Before the start of the beginning of the end, it was a nice night for the Foxes.

They had taken the night off, and they were in various stages of relaxation around the den; Neil and Andrew were on the couch, watching a movie.  _ The Outsiders _ , Andrew’s favorite. It had been his turn to pick, and he made them watch  _ The Outsiders  _ every time. It was his favorite book, too. Neil always liked to hear Andrew read it to him before he went to bed. He could quote the movie by memory now. He was mouthing the lines silently to himself, making little facial expressions to go along with the characters.

Neil had his head in Andrew’s lap, body stretched out over the rest of the couch, and Andrew was absentmindedly running a hand through Neil’s hair, massaging his scalp with light fingers. His eyes couldn’t decide where to rest: on the Curtis brothers on the TV screen, or on Neil mouthing the words in a way that Andrew was loathe to describe as adorable. Andrew’s other hand rested on Neil’s belly, fingers tracing over scarred skin exposed by the cut-off shirt Neil wore. He traced the pattern of a Fox. Neil sighed happily, always soft and content under Andrew’s gentle touch.

On one of the orange bean bag chairs, Kevin sat relaxed, his chin on the top of Aaron’s head. Aaron was laying back against his chest, their limbs tangled together and Kevin’s arms encircling Aaron. Every now and then, Kevin would duck his head to whisper something low in Aaron’s ear, and Aaron would smile as Kevin kissed his jaw. Renee sat in the other bean bag chair, with Allison sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her. Renee was braiding her hair.

It was quiet. Nice. Peaceful. 

Dan strolled into the living room and turned off the TV, which made Andrew glare at her. Matt trailed behind her, and Nicky, curious, poked his head in from the adjoining kitchen.

Andrew’s glare dissipated when Dan dragged the ottoman away from the couch and sat on it, facing her gang.

“I’ve got a job for us,” she said when all of the Foxes were gathered together in the den. “It’s big.” Her eyes were glittering with something like hunger. She was excited, Neil could tell.

“How much?” Matt asked, leaning against the wall, tattooed arms crossed over his chest. He hadn’t gelled his hair into spikes today, and it fell in waves on the top of his head.

“If we pulled it off, we’d be millionaires.” Dan grinned, brown eyes big. “We’d never have to work again.”

Nicky’s eyes widened. He was holding a half-eaten apple, but his hand fell limp at his side when Dan said the word ‘millionaires.’ 

“Shit,” he said. Aaron and Andrew looked at each other, feeling their past move between them. Allison shrugged, and Renee raised an eyebrow. Kevin looked halfway interested, though he was more interested in Aaron’s reaction. He watched Aaron’s face closely, hand trailing up and down his arm. 

Neil sat up from Andrew’s lap, freckled legs swinging down to the floor, and leaned forward on the couch. The thought of that much money had his eyes lighting up with an almost feverish intent. Finally, he and Andrew would be able to leave this place. He loved the Foxes, and he would do anything for his family. Let that never be forgotten. But this life wasn’t what he wanted. It had never been what he wanted, but it was what he had to do to survive. What he wanted was a real home, a real life, with Andrew. Somewhere warm, near a beach. He’d always liked the beach. His mother had taken him to one, once.

“What do we have to do?” he asked, already knowing he would do whatever it took to get that money. He would pay whatever price was necessary.

Dan’s face changed when she looked at him. Beside him on the couch, Andrew tensed. Neil felt it from where Andrew’s leg was pressed against his thigh. Dan sighed. Her eyes were grim now when she glanced at Andrew.

“You’re not gonna like this.”

 

*

 

They say that if you cross a Fox, you’ll be dead within a week. 

On the streets of Columbia, a Fox is an omen of death. Run the other way if one of the nine crosses your path. 

The Foxes were the most renowned street gang across five boroughs. Funded and protected by David Wymack, investor in dangerous promises and broken people, the Foxes had been running Columbia for five years. Wymack had hand-picked them off the streets one by one, saving them from their misfortune and offering them a questionable existence as thieves and contract killers. They would have to steal, and cheat, and lie. But they would be protected. They would be safe. They would have a better family than any of them had ever had before. As long as they swore loyalty to Wymack and as long as they did the jobs he asked of them, the Foxes - as they were eventually called - would have a home. 

It was not hard to convince any of them. People who had grown up on the streets of Columbia were naturally distrustful, and battered people, people like the Foxes, were even less so. But there was something that drew them all together. Call it fate, destiny, chance, or the promise of money. More than likely it was the money. Or maybe it was Wymack himself - he must have had some unseen quality that made the Foxes want to trust him, when before they had trusted no one.

Whatever it was, once the Foxes became the Foxes, there was nothing that could stand in their way.

For five years, they were legends. They were kings and queens on the streets of Columbia, not demanding power, but earning it. They were respected. They were feared. 

They were Foxes.

 

*

 

The Foxes performed black-market jobs for stupid rich people who offered them staggering amounts of money. The jobs were facilitated by Wymack, mostly, but after a few years working for him, Wymack trusted Dan enough to let her scout for work on her own. She was the leader of the Foxes, and rightfully so. She was the second of the recruits Wymack pulled off the street - Kevin Day was the first - and she helped Wymack find the rest of the ne'er do wells that made up their proud little gang. The others fell in line behind her easily; Dan was a natural-born leader.

Danielle Wilds started out as a dancer at Eden’s Twilight, a bar and strip club that drew in a crowd of Columbia’s most notorious gangsters every night. Wymack was a small-time player looking to make his name bigger, and so he went in search of a gang to call his own. There were already the Ravens, a gang owned and operated by the infamous mob boss Kengo Moriyama; and the Trojans, a self-made gang with no real backing and support other than bored kids who wanted to have some fun. The Ravens held the largest territory in Columbia, claiming more than half the streets. The Trojans prowled where they pleased and never made too much trouble for anyone. The Ravens left them alone, as they were never a serious threat. 

Kevin Day was a Raven before he became a Fox. He was a personal favorite of Riko Moriyama, second son of Kengo and a bruiser for the Ravens. Riko’s brother Ichirou was the gang’s true leader, but Ichirou didn’t care enough about Riko to put a leash on him. Riko abused his make-believe power in the gang’s hierarchy and used it to control Kevin for most of his life while Ichirou allowed it to happen, unaffected and unbothered. Kevin was born to Kayleigh Day, who had been a former runner for the Ravens before she died in a knife fight with a member from another gang. 

(After Kevin ran away from the Ravens and went to Wymack for help, the truth made itself known on the streets of Columbia: the fight that had taken Kayleigh’s life was orchestrated by Tetsuji Moriyama, Kengo’s younger brother and an enforcer for the Ravens, once Kayleigh’s closest friend. It was said that he was jealous because Kayleigh was sleeping with someone outside of the Ravens, someone Tetsuji didn’t approve of. It was said that that someone was Wymack. It was said that Wymack was Kevin Day’s father.)

The Ravens found it in their best interest to leave Kevin alone after he disbanded from them - the rumors about Tetsuji having a hand in Kayleigh’s death made them stick to the shadows (killing a fellow gang member was the worst line a person could cross; a gang was family, bonds thicker than blood) - and Wymack took him in. Kevin’s arrival on his doorstep inspired Wymack to implement the idea that had been stirring in his head for a while - it was time to build a gang of his own. People said that Kayleigh had given him the idea, and it was only fitting that their son should be the first initiate to the group that would later be called the Foxes. So named because Kayleigh had had a small tattoo of a fox on her lower back. Every gang member had a tattoo of their group’s idol inked somewhere on their skin; the Ravens all had their namesake bird etched permanently on their bodies in midnight black, with red eyes; the Trojans all had the shape of a war helmet done in blood red and accents of gold. But apparently, Kayleigh had always liked foxes, too. They said she was a fox herself - quick, cunning, subtle. Beautiful.

 

*

 

And so it happened that Wymack and Kevin were at Eden’s one night, scouting out the place for potential members. Kevin spotted Dan on the dancers’ stage. He didn’t pay attention to the dancing, but the look on her face was what caught his eye. Her smile was seductive for her captive audience, but her eyes were hard and vicious behind that deceptive twinkle. Kevin watched her as she left the stage and moved out into the crowd, where a beefy man reached out and groped her barely-covered ass. 

Dan turned to face him and smiled, and then she brought a knee up hard into his crotch and caught the man in a chokehold, her arm tight around his neck. The smile never left her face. 

“She’s good,” Kevin said, turning to Wymack, who had been watching the whole scene. Wymack smiled grimly. 

“I think so, too.”

Dan had a fox tattoo on her back less than a week later.

 

*

 

Matt Boyd was the next one of the Foxes to be initiated. He was a tall, tattooed teenager that they found in a broken-down boxing ring, where illegal fights were staged for money, and betting and gambling took place every night. The owner of the ring allowed Matt to live in the tiny room above the small stadium (though it could hardly be called a stadium, as it was barely bigger than a box) because he was the best fighter. Matt was a drifter, abandoned by his drug-addict father and left to his own devices by his sick and ailing mother. The fights were his way to make money for his mother’s medical expenses. She had been the one to teach him to fight before she got sick.

Wymack offered Matt a deal, and the next day, Matt was a Fox. After his first job with the fledgling group, he had enough money to put his mother in the care of a home nurse who would watch over her when Matt was away. He and Dan started a quiet relationship a few weeks later, and the world would burn if anyone ever tried to tear them apart after that.

 

*

 

Renee Walker was squatting in an abandoned church when the Foxes recruited her. She had murdered her abuser and was on the run from the police. As soon as Wymack offered her protection, the police could no longer lay claim to her. The cops in Columbia had a deal with the street gangs that let them stay out of each other’s way, and made sure that no gang members would ever spend too long in jail. Unless of course the right price was given. 

Renee made her place with the Foxes when she showed them all how well she could use a knife. 

 

*

 

Allison Reynolds was a former member of Columbia’s high society. Columbia was split into two factions - the shiny, sparkling high city, where the skyscrapers gleamed and the wealth was excessive and the champagne never stopped pouring; and the bowels of the city, the lower streets, the gambling dens and pleasure houses and nightclubs where the gangs ruled. Allison left her family and her money behind when her father was caught up in a multimillion-dollar embezzlement and fraud scheme and her mother was accused of adultery. She’d always been drawn to the wild chaos of the Columbia underworld, a bored rich kid looking for some entertainment, and she went in search of some fun. What she found was the Foxes. She ran into Renee at Eden’s; Renee brought her back to the Foxes, and they let her join with no big fuss. Allison had promise and potential.

Plus, she claimed she knew how to kill a man in a hundred different ways. 

(By the time the Foxes’ last member came along, she’d showed them ninety-seven).

Allison had a fling with a stray for a while, a boy named Seth Gordon that didn’t belong to any gang. For a month, Allison tried to convince Wymack to let Seth do some small jobs for the Foxes. She wanted him to have a home with them. Eventually Wymack relented and let Seth join on a trial basis. It didn’t last very long until Seth, volatile and angry Seth, got into a fight with a Raven and got himself killed.

Allison wanted revenge, but she couldn’t properly have it without inciting a war against the Ravens, and Kevin and Wymack wouldn’t let her do that. Allison stayed with the Foxes, but she was bitter towards Kevin and his father for a very long time.

Soon enough, she found comfort in the arms of Renee, and her bitterness melted away.

 

*

 

It was a year after that before the Foxes found the cousins. 

The twins, Aaron and Andrew Minyard, and their cousin Nicky Hemmick were living in a boarded-up house, or what used to be a house, in the slums of the city. The twins had been sent into foster care together when they were only four, after being given up by their alcoholic mother. They’d survived together for years, suffering abuse at the hands of their foster siblings (one in particular) before Nicky came searching for them. Nicky had run away from an abusive home and had been living in the high city with his boyfriend, a marketing analyst cut from the same cloth as Allison’s rich family, when he found out about the existence of his cousins. Hopeful for a chance at a new family, Nicky sought out the brothers and moved out of his boyfriend’s penthouse loft to be with them. The three of them got jobs at Eden’s Twilight, and from there, fate lead them into the path of the Foxes.

Aaron and Andrew, identical twins, were tormented for years before their cousin rescued them from the foster system. A man named Drake was their worst abuser, and after the twins joined the Foxes, the gang paid Drake a visit. 

After that, Drake was just a name that had once belonged to a person. 

Healing from their collective trauma was a long road, but the twins and Nicky walked it together. Slowly, they made progress. Joining the Foxes gave them all a family and a real home. Nicky was still with his boyfriend, Erik, but he stayed with the Foxes in their den and made sparing visits to Erik when the Foxes weren’t working. (The den was a place they called Fox Tower, an abandoned apartment building in the Columbia projects they’d claimed for themselves. Wymack paid to have it cleaned up and turned it into the Foxes’ playhouse.)

The Foxes liked Nicky for his stealth. He became their lookout, the one they sent on reconnaissance missions when they needed information. And when they put a gun in his hands, they discovered he was one hell of a sharpshooter. 

Andrew was recruited for his affinity for knives, and so, naturally, he was drawn to Renee. They became fast friends and partners in crime. 

Aaron, a scientist at heart, knew how to cook up deadly poisons that the Foxes could use for weapons. During the first few weeks of the cousins’ joining, Aaron noticed Kevin giving him subtle looks. It wasn’t long before Aaron was boldly pulling Kevin aside at Eden’s one night and kissing him. 

And then it was inevitable.

Wymack approved.

Andrew took more time to warm up to it. He and his brother had been attached at the hip all their lives, and they’d promised they would never leave each other. But Andrew tried not to blame Kevin when he snatched Aaron away. Aaron was happy, at least. That counted for something. Happiness had always been hard to come by for the twins. 

So Andrew let his brother be happy, and they settled into their life with the Foxes. Andrew stuck close to Renee and didn’t hold out any hope for his own happiness.

But less than a year later, it arrived in the form of a blue-eyed, auburn-haired runaway.

 

*****

 

Last but not least of the Foxes - certainly not least - came barreling onto the scene shortly after the cousins’ arrival, and his name was Neil Josten. 

He was the prettiest boy this side of the city line, and he was almost a Raven before the Foxes snatched him up. 

And before Andrew caught his eye. 

It was Andrew that drew him in, Andrew that really made him want to join the Foxes. And Andrew was just as drawn to Neil as Neil was to him, though he would never admit it out loud. Andrew was quiet; it was a natural result of his upbringing in the foster system, a defense mechanism that he used to try to keep himself hidden and unnoticed. Aaron used to be quiet, too, before Kevin. Andrew’s time with the Foxes hadn’t changed his demeanor, and he hardly spoke, never doing anything to draw attention to himself. He was a shadow (and that did come in handy when the Foxes needed it). But Neil noticed him almost right away.

“ _ It was the eyes _ ,” Neil told him one night when they were in bed together, as he ran his thumbs under Andrew’s eyes with a soft smile. “ _ They’re beautiful _ .” Andrew had rolled his eyes and kissed Neil to make him shut up. It was a tactic he used quite often.

Neil Josten was once Nathaniel Wesninski, son of Nathan and Mary Wesninski, leaders of a crime ring that rivaled the Ravens in size and stature. The Ravens and the Wesininskis even worked together, once upon a time, before they parted ways in a friendly agreement between both parties. (A friendly agreement that involved knives and guns and cleavers). In fact, Nathaniel Wesninski and Kevin Day had once met. Nathaniel’s father had been negotiating business with Kengo Moriyama, and he’d brought his son along to the meeting. Ichirou and Riko were there, too. All of the children were no more than six years old, and they were shielded by bodyguards while the crime lords made deals. They played with unloaded guns and empty magazine rounds on the floor, while behind their wall of bodyguards, Nathan and Kengo tortured a man to death.

After the Wesninskis and the Ravens cut their ties with each other (and no one ever really knew why that was, though it could easily be guessed that Nathan wanted more power and control and Kengo refused to give it to him), Nathaniel’s mother decided she’d had enough of this dangerous life. She took her son and ran, evading Nathan and his people for years in a winding trail that lead all over the country. She made Nathaniel promise that he would never return to Columbia. 

He kept that promise only as long as he could, but eventually, Mary died and left her son behind, and Nathaniel had no choice.

He returned to Columbia on the warpath, looking for revenge against his father. Nathan’s people had killed Mary on their last run-in with each other. Nathaniel had managed to escape, though badly burned and beaten by one of his father’s people. Lola. 

By a miracle, by sheer force of will, by determination, by strength, Nathaniel managed to stay out of his pursuers’ sights for another three years after that, wrapping himself in disguises and changing his name more than once. 

The things he did to survive were not pretty, but they would come in handy when he joined the Foxes.

Eventually, Nathaniel found himself as Neil Josten, and Neil Josten found himself back in Columbia. He knew his father’s people would catch up to him soon, but he had a plan. He was going to enlist the Ravens’ help. He remembered the Ravens, remembered vague faces and a few names - Kengo, Ichirou, Riko, Tetsuji. Kevin. If Neil could find them, he wouldn’t have to worry about his father anymore. He could avenge his mother’s death. He had some money saved, and if that wasn’t enough, he had other ways to convince them to help. Ways that had never failed him before. 

He may have had scars, but he was still pretty, after all. 

So Neil made his way to Eden’s Twilight, the club where he remembered his father used to go on occasional Saturday nights. He only remembered it because his mother had always wanted to keep him away from it. 

There was a chance, of course, that Nathan would be there when Neil walked in. But Neil was willing to take that risk. His father had never been as much of a frequent customer as the Ravens were. 

It was easy to find the Moriyamas. Ichirou and Riko were there with a small group of the Ravens, and Riko’s new pet, the one that had replaced Kevin when Kevin ran away. Jean Moreau was his name, a stray that the Ravens had taken in off the streets (not out of the kindness of their hearts, because there had never been any of that with the Ravens - it was only to satiate Riko’s boredom). Neil had made sure to gather all the information he needed before he stepped foot inside the club. 

He was wearing an outfit that he knew would get him attention - a mesh shirt and shiny pants, his auburn hair tousled with glitter, his face made up. Neil pushed his way out into the crowd and headed towards the alcove where the Ravens were holding court. Some of the Trojans were near them - the leader, a happy-go-lucky guy named Jeremy Knox, and his two favorite enforcers, Alvarez and Laila. Some people questioned why Knox was in the business of gangs if he was so damn happy all the time, but there was a razor-sharp edge underneath his sunshine smile. It was the reason why no one ever really made trouble with the Trojans. 

Knox was in deep conversation with Riko. Jean sat between them, and Riko had a possessive hand on his knee, squeezing it tight with fingers that looked like claws. Jean looked like he was trying very hard not to look at Jeremy. Neil scoped out the situation, hanging back in the middle of the heavy crowd until he saw a good opportunity to approach. Ichirou sat on the other side of the couch across from Riko, leaning back and looking very bored. He was surveying the club, lazily sipping a drink. 

His eyes passed right over Neil in the crowd, and then slowly traced back to him. There was a moment of appraisal, and then, a moment of faint recognition.

Neil took a step forward. 

In that same moment, Andrew Minyard bumped into him.

 

*****

 

Neil had a plan. He had a mission. He was there to join the Ravens and get revenge against his father. 

But what happened was that he ended up making out with Andrew in the bathroom.

“Sorry,” Neil said when Andrew bumped into him. “Excuse me.” He was about to push past Andrew when the lights in the club flashed and illuminated Andrew’s eyes and pale blonde hair. Neil paused. He’d never seen a boy so beautiful. 

Neil had never really been allowed to be genuinely interested in anyone before. His mother warned him against it during their time on the run, and afterwards, when Neil was left alone, he only did what he had to do to survive. The people he charmed into bed were only a means to an end. He never paid attention to faces or names, just how much they paid him. He never wondered if it felt good or if he was enjoying it. 

But when Neil saw Andrew for the first time, something in his chest caught and held. 

Andrew stared back at him. 

They might have stayed like that forever, except then one of the people in the dancing crowd bumped into Neil from behind and pushed him into Andrew’s arms. 

Ichirou and the Ravens were forgotten, for the moment.

Neil smiled. Andrew’s face didn’t change, but his body shifted. Neil wasn’t shy when he leaned forward and spoke into Andrew’s ear, “Wanna buy me a drink?” 

Years of experience guided him now - he’d never genuinely flirted with anyone before, only faked it convincingly enough to make them believe it, but he knew what he was doing. And this time it was genuine.

Andrew raised an eyebrow. Pleased to have gotten a reaction out of him, Neil’s smile grew wider when he said, “If not a drink, then maybe a dance.”

“I don’t dance,” Andrew said flatly. 

“Hm. We can figure something else out, then.” Neil winked. 

He wasn’t exactly sure how they ended up in the bathroom - only that they did, Andrew pressing Neil against the wall of a graffitied stall, asking permission, and then shoving his tongue in Neil’s mouth. Neil moaned and arched into him when Andrew touched him, kissing him back with heat and intensity. 

“Only touch my hair,” Andrew growled as he bit Neil’s lip. Neil didn’t ask questions. He just nodded and put his hands in the blonde hair on Andrew’s head, running his fingers through it. It was soft. It felt nice.

“You can touch me everywhere,” Neil gasped. “Anywhere.”

It was only afterwards that they learned each other’s names. 

 

*

 

It wasn’t like Andrew to hook up with strangers in a dirty nightclub bathroom. Sometimes he had his fun with one of the club bartenders, Roland, because he wanted  _ something  _ and he wasn’t finding it anywhere else. And Roland respected his boundaries. Andrew had no idea what came over him when he dragged Neil into a stall. 

He wanted to hate Neil, at first, for the way he made Andrew feel. 

But all Neil had to do was look at him with those pretty blue eyes and that soft-as-silk smile, and Andrew was gone. 

He brought Neil back to the Foxes. Neil knew who the Foxes were - they’d sprung up after his mother took him on the run, but upon coming back to Columbia, Neil had done his research. He knew all about David Wymack and his merry band of thieves and killers. He just didn’t know Andrew was one of them until he learned his name. And after that, the plan Neil had made began to change. 

He needed help to get revenge against his father, but maybe he didn’t need the Ravens’ help. 

Kevin recognized him. Neil recognized Kevin, too, and when Andrew brought him to the Foxes’ table, there was shock, and there were questions. Kevin had thought Nathaniel was dead. For all intents and purposes, Nathaniel was. Neil had taken his place. 

It was nothing more than a coincidence to both of them; Kevin might have been worried about what the Ravens would do when they found out Neil joined the Foxes, but ever since the Moriyamas cut ties with the Wesninskis, they wanted nothing to do with the family except to get rid of them. 

It wasn’t long before Neil was officially inducted into the Foxes. After that, Ichirou paid him a personal visit, asking if he was going to cause trouble for the Ravens. Neil explained that he’d only returned to the city to avenge his mother’s death. He wasn’t interested in the politics of the gangs, and he didn’t want to be involved in the Moriyama-Wesninski war. Ichirou passed him off as harmless, and the Foxes were left to their own devices. 

A week later, the Foxes visited Neil’s childhood home, and Nathan and his people were taken care of. 

Neil smiled when it happened. Revenge tasted sweet. 

After that, the only thing Neil really wanted was Andrew. 

 

*

 

It had been five years since then. 

Neil’s life with the Foxes was good. He was happy with Andrew, and Andrew had softened with him. Andrew was quietly happy, too. Neil’s existence now was better than what he’d had before, far better than anything he ever thought he could have. 

But he was tired. He wanted more for himself. He wanted rest. He used the skills he had to help the Foxes, he did the jobs Wymack and Dan asked of him, he squirreled away the money he earned and he spent his nights alone with Andrew. But Neil didn’t want this anymore. He wanted a way out. Many times he’d tried to convince Andrew to leave with him, but Andrew refused on the grounds that he wouldn’t leave his brother. Neil had offered for Kevin and Aaron to come with them, but Kevin wouldn’t leave his father. 

And so Neil was stuck. 

Which was why, when Dan told them about the job that day, he never hesitated. 

Dan was right. 

Andrew did not like it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here comes the original character!! (he's a fucker) mild smut in this chapter too. also neil is very Soft in this fic and he calls andrew baby a lot which is entirely self-indulgent on my part, but like i said the aftg characters are sort of adjusted to fit the personalities of my own original characters in the story. i tried to stay as true to nora's characterization as i could tho.

The woman’s name was Catherine Devoe. The public eye and everyone in the high city who owned a television knew her as Kathy Ferdinand, a bubbly daytime talk show host. It turned out, Kathy Ferdinand was only a persona she played for ratings. The woman behind the mask of makeup and perfume was Catherine. Catherine had an intensely private personal life, and almost no one knew her as anything other than who she portrayed on TV. Catherine was a woman who kept herself an enigma even to her family. And her family was exactly why she needed the Foxes’ help.

She’d sent a messenger to the Foxes, asking Dan to meet with her privately at a swanky hotel in the high city. Dan had gone to the meeting without telling the rest of the Foxes except Wymack. She’d wanted to see what the situation was before she decided to do anything about it. Wymack trusted her to decide whether the job was worthwhile or not.

Catherine was married to a man named Simon Ferdinand, CEO of Stanford-Ferdinand Holdings, one of the high city’s wealthiest investment companies. Allison knew it well. Her father had worked with them several times. The union between Catherine and Simon was a loveless marriage, merely a business arrangement between them that had been orchestrated by their fathers for mutual benefit, and they were trapped in it. 

According to Catherine, her husband ran an enormous underground drug ring and used his company as a front for it. The Foxes were shocked to find out that Simon Ferdinand controlled almost the entire drug trade in Columbia. His operation was bigger than any of the gangs, and it spanned the entire city, even outside of it. Catherine wanted the Foxes to infiltrate the ring and dismantle it from the inside out. She wanted her husband destroyed so that she could have his money. Her motivation was familiar - almost everyone who hired the Foxes for their black market jobs did it for financial reasons. Money ruled the city, and she was a mistress the Foxes could understand. It was the reason they all did what they did. 

It was the reason Neil agreed to what he would have to do for this job.

Evidently, Simon Ferdinand had a taste for younger men. It made Neil the perfect bait. 

Dan had made sure that Neil was on board before she’d contacted Catherine with the news that they were in. She did it before every job. If Neil ever showed the slightest hesitation, the Foxes would pull out. But he never did. None of the Foxes liked using Neil as a lure, least of all Andrew, but it had come in handy hundreds of times, and Neil was good at it. He knew how to pull the strings and play the part. Each of the Foxes had a special skill that made them unique from all the rest, and Neil’s was his seduction. Andrew dealt with it as best as he could. But he was never happy about it.

That was how they were going to get into Simon Ferdinand’s operation. They would pose as a group interested in investing in his business, offering a deal to help him run drugs across Columbia. And if he needed convincing, they would offer Neil up on a silver platter.

Catherine was willing to give them millions of dollars. 

They couldn’t say no. 

Neil refused to let them. 

If they pulled off this job, it would make the Foxes the richest they’d ever been. The money would make sure that they could quit this life if they wanted to. And Neil wanted to. None of the Foxes could pass up this opportunity. They would all be set for life if they did this successfully, and they would be able to start truly living instead of just surviving. Because that’s what they’d been doing for the last five years. Surviving. They were a gang out of necessity. They’d tied themselves to Wymack because it was how they would stay alive in a world that showed them no mercy. They were a family now, but once they got this money, they could all finally be free to live how they wanted. 

Nicky could go back to his boyfriend, Erik. Renee could start the women and children’s shelter she wanted to own one day. Aaron could go to med school, a pipe dream of his since he was young. Dan could buy Eden’s Twilight. Matt could buy the boxing ring where he used to fight and he could fix it up, make it something bigger and better to make his mother proud. They all had dreams, hopes, wishes on stars that they’d thought would never come true. 

Neil and Andrew could just be together. They could get their own place. Maybe some pets. They could be at peace. If they did this job, Neil would never have to sell himself again. He would never have to make Andrew worry anymore.

He could do it one more time in exchange for a lifetime of freedom.

He had to. 

 

*

 

Neil’s moans were soft and pretty as he sat on Andrew’s lap, pushing himself up and down. His thighs straddled Andrew’s, and Andrew was sitting up in bed, arms around Neil, kissing his chest as Neil gently rode him. His hands roamed over Neil’s freckled back, over the fox tattoo there, and his lips traced patterns across Neil’s skin. He kissed each of Neil’s nipples, shuddering at the beautiful sound Neil made. Neil was moving slowly - tonight, they were taking their time. It was intensely intimate.

It was the last night they had together before the job. 

Andrew moved his lips to Neil’s throat, kissing his neck. Neil’s hands tangled in Andrew’s hair and pulled him closer, crying out when one of Andrew’s hands trailed its way down, lower and lower until it found its desired target. Neil’s breath hitched and his moans reached a higher pitch when Andrew stroked him in the way he liked, soft but insistent, tender but firm. Neil tugged at Andrew’s hair, pulling his head back so he could lean their foreheads together. Neil put his hand on Andrew’s cheek and kissed him breathlessly, crying softly into his mouth as they both began to move faster. Andrew thrust up and Neil rolled his hips, and Andrew’s hand applied more pressure, his thumb rubbing at the head. Neil trembled in his arms the way he always did before an orgasm - and after - and Andrew’s other arm wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him like something so precious.

“Andrew,” Neil cried against his lips. Andrew chased the sound of his name with his tongue, grunting as he felt himself draw closer to the edge. Neil clenched around him, and that was it. They came together, Neil with another angelic moan and Andrew with a muffled groan against Neil’s neck. 

Neil tried to get his breath back, his head resting on Andrew’s shoulder, arms loosely draped around his waist. “Don’t let me go yet.”

Andrew shook his head. He couldn’t. He never, ever wanted to. 

Andrew used to despise the sentimental mess Neil made of him, but it had been five years. He was grown up. They all were. He could admit to himself now without fighting it that this was who he was around Neil, and he didn’t mind. 

It was a few more minutes before Andrew gently lifted Neil off his lap and laid him on the bed. Neil was careful not to make a mess of their nice white sheets (expensive, 400-thread count - Neil liked living in luxury, and Andrew liked spoiling him) while Andrew went to their private bathroom to get a damp cloth. They were the only ones in Fox Tower who had a private bathroom, and they were the only ones who had a whole floor to themselves. The building was small, only big enough to fit the Foxes: the first floor had a living room and adjoining kitchen, a small office, and a half-bathroom; the second floor had two bedrooms, the third floor had two more bedrooms and a bathroom, and the fourth floor was Andrew and Neil’s. The place had been a decrepit dump when the Foxes found it, but Wymack’s money turned it into a living space worthy of the Foxes.

Andrew cleaned himself off in the bathroom first before he returned to Neil and gently wiped him down. Neil smiled softly and closed his eyes as Andrew ran the warm cloth over his skin. He sighed when Andrew tossed the cloth away and settled sideways next to him. They were laying on their sides, facing each other. The place was quiet, except for the muffled sounds of Foxes moving below them. They were all preparing for the job tomorrow. 

The job. Andrew tensed. His jaw clenched as he raised his hand and ran it through Neil’s hair, tucking an auburn curl behind his ear. 

Neil knew Andrew was upset. It was in every inch of his body. The tension had disappeared when they were making love - which was exactly the reason Neil had enticed Andrew into it - but it was back now that they were no longer the only two people in the world. 

“I don’t want you to do this,” Andrew said, stroking Neil’s face. Neil sighed. 

“I know,” he said. 

Neil moved his head to brush their noses together, eyes closed, and his hand found Andrew's under the blankets. Their fingers intertwined and held on tight. 

"I'm doing this for us," Neil whispered. "If we do this right, it'll be the last time I will ever have to do anything like this again. After this, we can take the money and get our own place, just the two of us. We'll be able to live how we want to for the rest of our lives."

It sounded like a dream. It  _ was  _ a dream. But it didn’t have to be. Neil needed Andrew to see that. Needed him to understand. 

Andrew did understand. He hated it with a ferocity that burned him, but he understood. He was caught between wanting and hatred, because he  _ hated _ that Neil was doing this for them. That made it worse, somehow. Andrew didn’t care about getting their own place or living life instead of just surviving. He didn’t care about any of that. All he had ever needed, all he’d ever wanted, was Neil. The rest didn’t matter.

Of course there was his brother, and Nicky. Renee. Even Kevin. His family. They mattered. He cared about them, too. But Andrew’s priority was always Neil. Aaron had Kevin to take care of him now, and it allowed Andrew to focus on what had become the most important thing in his life. A boy with auburn hair and blue eyes, a scarred face and a martyr heart. 

Keeping Neil safe was vital. And Andrew had a bad feeling about this job. He’d had a bad feeling since Dan explained the gritty details. 

Neil could see the war on Andrew’s face. Just as Andrew opened his mouth to beg him not to do this, Neil put a finger over his lips to stop him. 

“Baby,” he said quietly, and that word was Andrew’s undoing. “I want to do this. Let me do this.” His eyes were wide, open and earnest and soft. “Trust me.”

That look. Those eyes. Andrew’s heart fought with itself, tumbling over words and stumbling over emotions in his chest. 

He did trust Neil. With his whole life, with everything, inside and out. 

So he took a deep breath. 

He  _ knew _ he would regret this. He knew he would hate himself for it later. But he couldn’t say no when Neil was looking at him like that with those big blue eyes of his. 

He was weak.

He wasn’t strong enough for this.

He said, "Okay." 

And then he rolled on top of Neil and kissed him deeply, and they spent their last night together in quiet bliss before they had to start pretending they didn’t love each other.

 

*

 

The next morning, the mood in Fox Tower was silent and somber as the gang packed up. Catherine was putting them up in a fancy hotel for the duration of the job. All except for Neil. 

If all went as according to plan, Neil would have to stay with Simon. In his house. 

Neil dressed in skimpy, revealing clothes. He had to look the part. He knew the role he had to play, and he was willing to play it. 

Andrew wouldn’t look at him when they woke up in the morning.

Andrew would hardly even touch him. 

Neil’s heart broke, even as he told himself he knew this was how it was going to be. This was how Andrew was going to deal with it, and Neil had to let him. 

Dan was the only one who’d met Catherine before, and she introduced herself to the rest of the Foxes when she pulled up outside Fox Tower in a limo. They had all seen Kathy Ferdinand on TV, but they had never met Catherine. Kathy was bright, enthusiastic, irresistibly charming. Catherine was poised, elegant, sophisticated. She was quieter than Kathy. A little stiffer. She reeked of power and money and prestige.

Neil thought of how much she was paying them. 

When Catherine saw Neil, she looked him over once and nodded. “He’ll do perfectly. He’s exactly my husband’s type.”

Neil ignored the hard looks on the Foxes’ faces. There was no room for regret now. 

The fact that Neil was Simon’s type was good for their plan. It was bad for Andrew, whose anger and resentment and helpless fury built as Catherine’s limo brought them closer to their destination. 

Andrew had no choice but to bottle it up. 

Aaron was the only one besides Neil who could tell what was wrong. He sat close to his brother in the limo without touching him, offering silent support.

Neil tried not to cry on the ride to the hotel. He took deep breaths and traced the tattoo of a key he had on his wrist. Andrew had the same one, in a place that was better hidden on his body. They had gotten them last year. Neil had other tattoos - Andrew’s initials, AJ, inked in small letters between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand (Andrew had a small letter N tattooed on one of his knuckles); and then of course the fox tattoo, styled to look like the animal was running up his spine. The Foxes were posing as themselves for this mission, and Neil had a story to explain away each of his tattoos if Simon asked about them. His explanation for the fox was that the Foxes had found Neil and branded it onto him before he could say no. It fit with the role he was playing; he was supposed to be a prostitute the Foxes had rescued from a brothel. The Foxes had found him, marked him, and had intended to train him as a new recruit, but when he wasn’t showing any promise, they decided to give him to Simon instead. If Neil was convincing enough, Simon wouldn’t be suspicious.

Neil closed his eyes and traced his key tattoo over and over again, focusing his mind and closing off his heart. 

By the time they got to the hotel, Neil was blank.

Check-in to their hotel was smooth with Catherine there to help them. Neil and Andrew walked on opposite sides of the group from each other, farther apart than they’d ever been. If they showed even a small sign of being interested in each other, this whole thing might end before it began. If that happened, Neil would never forgive himself. It had to go off without a hitch. He and Andrew couldn’t touch. They couldn’t look at each other, couldn’t even really speak to each other. He couldn’t act like he had any important connections, any ties to anyone here. 

They had an hour or so before they had to meet Simon. Catherine helped them get settled in the suites she’d rented out for them; they were giant rooms, luxury furniture, all white and gold and sparkling. Catherine stayed long enough to go over the plan with the Foxes once more, and to remind them how much money she would pay them if this all worked out. At the mention of the money, Neil’s resolve hardened. 

Deadly determination made him square his shoulders back. He slipped into his role easily. He pretended to be the battered, shy boy that the Foxes had pulled out of the brothel. In the hour they had left, the Foxes adjusted themselves with long-practiced ease. They put on the masks they would need to wear if Simon was going to believe them. They ignored everything except the job and the end goal. This was how it always worked - this was why they were the best at what they did. They never let anything get in their way.

In the limo again on their way to their first meeting with Simon Ferdinand, Dan let her mask slip briefly when she tied Neil’s wrists together with rope. 

“I’m sorry, Neil,” she said quietly. Neil smiled at her. She kissed his cheek, hugged him, and finished tying his hands behind his back. Renee reached out and squeezed one of Neil’s bound hands. Matt ruffled his hair with a sad smile. Allison said solemnly, “We’re all counting on you, babydoll.” Her eyes said she believed in Neil. She knew he could do this, but she wished he didn’t have to. Nicky faked a bright smile and said, “This guy won’t even know what hit him. See if you can steal me a fancy watch or something from his house, yeah? I need a birthday present for Erik.” 

Aaron didn’t say anything. He just gave Neil a warning look. It was a look that said  _ Be careful  _ and  _ Don’t mess this up for any of us  _ and  _ Especially Andrew  _ and Neil nodded back at him grimly. 

Kevin squeezed Neil’s shoulder and said, “Good luck.”

Andrew sat silent and stiff, staring out the window next to his brother. Neil didn’t need to say anything to him. They’d said their goodbyes last night.

The place where Simon wanted to meet them was a private gentlemen’s club just on the border between the high city and the lower streets. According to Catherine, Simon had no idea of his wife’s involvement in any of this. He believed he’d set the whole thing up himself. Neil didn’t know how, but Dan trusted Catherine, and he trusted Dan. That was enough. He wasn’t interested in the minor details; he only cared about his own role in everything.

The limo dropped them off outside. Catherine wasn’t with them, and the driver was an anonymous face who hadn’t spoken to any of them since he’d picked them up outside their hotel. Neil didn’t know if he worked for Catherine or Simon.

It was dark outside, night just beginning to fall. The Foxes were met inside the entrance of the club by burly guards who immediately searched them all for weapons. They patted Neil down - though the clothes he was wearing left little to the imagination and it was clear that he was unarmed - and didn’t say a word about his tied hands. When the Foxes were cleared for entry, one of the guards led them through to the back of the club, where they were ushered into a dark, smoky room. The Foxes walked in a tight knit group, with Kevin and Matt bringing up the rear as the tallest members of their gang. Neil was hidden from sight behind them. They would reveal him at the right moment.

Neil couldn’t see, but when Dan lead her gang into the room, the rest of them saw Simon Ferdinand sitting on a velvet couch, smoking a cigar as he discussed business with one of his associates. He stopped when the Foxes entered. The guard closed the door behind them, locking them in.

Dan took the lead, stepping forward when Simon stood up. 

“You must be my new investors,” he said. His voice was deep, but oddly soft. Neil tried to picture what he looked like.

“We would like to be,” Dan said confidently.

“Get out.” For a second, Neil thought he was talking to Dan. But then he heard movement as Simon’s associate got up from the other couch and left the room. On his way out, his eyes snagged on Neil, and Neil felt the man look him over slowly. The man knocked on the door and waited for the guard to unlock it and let him out. He left with a look of regret, as if he was sorry he wouldn’t get to stay for the entertainment. 

Out of Neil’s sight, Simon Ferdinand gestured for Dan to occupy the seat the other man had just vacated. The Foxes positioned themselves around her when she sat. Kevin and Matt stayed close together, keeping Neil hidden behind them.

Simon eyed the Foxes one by one, sizing them up individually. They had all been made up and dressed respectably for this meeting so that their farce would be believable. They were still the Foxes, and they still commanded respect simply by walking into a room, but for Simon, they had to be a different version of themselves. They couldn’t look like a typical street gang.

They looked like the Ravens, in suits and expensive accessories. They radiated power.

After a second, Simon nodded to himself, apparently satisfied with what he saw. “My name is Simon Ferdinand,” he said. “But I presume you already know who I am.”

“Danielle,” Dan introduced herself smoothly. “These are my associates.” She gestured to the Foxes behind her. 

They talked for a few minutes, about why the Foxes were there and what they expected. Simon seemed to have little knowledge of the gang system that dominated Columbia’s underworld, which was surprising, seeing as how he controlled the drug trade. But it was entirely possible he didn’t really know his buyers. Secrets and lies were a lifestyle on the Columbia streets, a second language that every single gang was fluent in. 

Despite Simon’s lack of knowledge, everything seemed to be going well. Dan was persuasive, but not persistent. She let Simon control most of the conversation. And at the end, when Simon asked her why it was worth his time to ally himself with the Foxes, Dan said, “To show our interest in working with you, and to show how grateful we would be to have you as a partner, we’ve brought you a gift.”

Neil took a breath as Matt and Kevin stepped aside to reveal him.

Simon was an older man, early to late forties, maybe, but it was clear that he was fit and muscular underneath the suit he wore. He had dark hair and sharply shaved facial hair. He exuded power and wealth. Every inch of him was domineering.

He raised an eyebrow when he saw Neil, and sat up on his couch. He smiled slowly. Neil stepped forward, head down, pretending to be shy. Simon’s smile was almost gentle as he held out his hand. 

“Well, aren’t you a pretty thing?” he said. His voice was soft in the worst, most dangerous way. Neil had heard that same tone of voice from plenty of the strangers he’d bedded before. “Come here, honey. Let me see you.” 

Neil kept moving until he was within Simon’s reach. He crossed the room to Simon’s couch, moving slowly, demurely. Simon put a proprietary hand on Neil’s hip and stroked the bare skin there. He noticed Neil’s tied wrists and frowned up at Dan. “Why’d you tie him up?”

“He’s fidgety,” Dan said. “We found him in a brothel, scared and shivering. We tried to toughen him up, but he doesn’t like us much. We thought he’d be perfect for you. The rope is because we didn’t want him getting any ideas.”

Simon shook his head. “There’s no need for that. I like to keep my boys comfortable.” He raised a hand to untie the rope that bound Neil’s wrists, and then took both of Neil’s hands and placed them on his strong shoulders. Simon guided Neil down to sit in his lap, and Neil went pliantly. Simon put his hand on Neil’s chin and lifted his face up, examining Neil as if he were something Simon was considering buying at the store. Neil was quiet and submissive, letting Simon do what he wanted. Simon put a hand in Neil’s hair and stroked his skin. He ran his hand all over Neil’s body. He didn’t seem to mind the scars; his fingers caressed them, tracing the ridges and bumps, even the ones on Neil’s face.

“I like the color,” he said, tugging at one of Neil’s curls. 

Neil smiled shyly and mumbled, “Thank you.”

“That’s it, don’t be shy.” Simon nodded encouragingly and smiled back at him. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Nathaniel.”

Simon kept touching him, mapping out his curves and edges. He brushed his thumb over Neil’s lips to part them. 

Dan and the other Foxes kept impassive looks on their faces as Simon did what he wanted with Neil.

The good thing was that Neil was sitting on Simon’s lap, turned away from his family. He couldn’t see their eyes. If he did, he would see how much they hated this.

Simon leaned in and ran his nose along Neil’s neck, breathing in his scent. Neil smelled nice, a special scent that Simon loved. Catherine had given it to Neil, and Neil made sure to put it on before he left the hotel. Simon kissed his neck once, softly. His hands came around to Neil’s back. He was so much bigger and so much different than Andrew, but Neil didn’t focus on that. He couldn’t.

 

*

 

At the back of the room, Andrew stood stiffly, affecting an impassive face and a bored posture that he could barely stand to hold. He should look away. He didn’t know why he wasn’t looking away. He hated himself, hated Neil, hated every one of the circumstances that had lead them to this point. He watched the nauseating scene unfolding before him, rage, wrath, anger, and something else, something he didn’t want to put a name to ( _ heartbreak,  _ it was heartbreak) roiling in his gut. His eyes burned. He had no choice but to stand there blankly while Neil was groped and poked and prodded by Simon as if he were property. As if he were a  _ thing  _ and an object and not a person, not an angel. Andrew had to watch as Simon touched him, kissed him, caressed him. Andrew had to watch and do  _ nothing  _ as Simon leaned forward and whispered something in Neil’s ear, and he couldn’t do  _ anything  _ when Neil pretended to enjoy it, arching into the touch and gripping Simon’s shoulders.

Simon wasn’t doing it right. He didn’t know the places that made Neil shiver, didn’t know the places that made him moan, the places that Andrew knew intimately, as well as he knew himself. Simon didn’t know how to take care of Neil the way Andrew did. Didn’t know how to hold him right. 

Andrew finally looked away when Neil smiled prettily at Simon and giggled. He didn’t know if he could do this.

He didn’t know if it was worth it. 

He wanted to take his knife and throw it into Simon’s forehead. He wanted to slit his throat and make him choke on his own blood. 

He wanted to hate Neil so much for agreeing to do this. 

In the beginning, he’d always wished he could hate Neil, for a lot of things. But the last five years had shaped him differently. He didn’t hate Neil. He just hated the things Neil did. Hated the decisions Neil made. It was the only sore point between them. They would always be devoted to each other, unfailingly, but this was the source of all their arguments.

Andrew could never stop Neil when he set his mind to something, and he hated that, too. He’d been forced to watch Neil do a lot of things over the last five years that drove him mad with helpless fury, but this might have been the worst. 

Aaron stood next to Andrew, close enough to touch. He nudged his brother with his elbow and shot him a hard look. Andrew knew what it meant. If he let his feelings get in the way of this, if he blew this for the Foxes, they would all end up dead. Including Neil. 

Andrew closed his eyes. 

He took a quiet breath in and let his fists slowly unclench. He made himself look back at Neil and Simon, swallowing the acid in his throat.

He vowed that the moment this was over, he was going to put Simon six feet under in the worst, most painful way he knew how.

 

*

 

The deal was made. Neil could tell the moment Simon made the decision. Simon slid Neil off his lap and stood up with him, a hand on his shoulder. Neil leaned into him.

“I think we would make excellent partners,” he told Dan. Neil stopped himself from smiling. Good. He was doing good. Simon shook hands with Dan. He said, “I’ll contact you with a time and place to meet tomorrow. For now, I’d like to take this boy home and spend some time alone with him.”

Dan nodded, and Neil could see the thinly veiled disgust in her eyes. He hoped Simon didn’t notice. 

He knew Dan hated this. He knew all the Foxes did. Neil threw them all a look behind Simon’s back, and he watched them all forcibly bury their discomfort. Neil was strong. He could do this. He knew he could. He refused to let any of them give up on this for his sake. 

He curled into Simon’s side. He didn’t look at Andrew when he smiled up at Simon, and Simon smiled back.

Simon took Neil back to his house, a giant mansion just outside the high city. The Foxes went back to their hotel, grim and silent as the grave inside the limo. No one looked at Andrew.

Their undercover operation was officially underway. The first part, at least, was over. 

The rest wouldn’t be so easy.

Back in the comfort of their hotel, the Foxes prepared for their next steps. They didn’t think about Neil. He had his own job now; they had theirs. 

In Simon Ferdinand’s fancy car on the way to his mansion, Simon had one hand on the wheel. His other hand was on Neil’s knee, creeping up his leg. 

Neil wondered how long this would last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys like how i incorporated kathy ferdinand? lol
> 
> next chapter on thursday!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shit goes down in this chapter, this is where the action starts!! also i just want to say that the passage of time is very ambiguous in this fic and if it gets confusing i apologize, i think i kind of wrote it weird but let me know what you think i would really appreciate feedback on that. also there is a lot of exposition in this fic but oh well

Neil didn’t expect to be treated with kindness. So when he was given his own room in Simon’s mansion, a big, nice room with a big, nice bed, he blinked up at Simon in shock. 

Simon laughed, running his hand over Neil’s hair. “You poor thing. You’re not used to this, are you?” There was that voice again, that dangerously soft voice. Neil didn’t trust it. Didn’t want to trust it, anyway. 

There had to be something darker lying underneath, something sinister behind Simon’s eyes. 

Neil shook his head. Simon lead him into the room by the hand, gesturing to the bed. “All this is yours now. You’ll have whatever you want while you’re here. Food, drinks, clothes, anything you want - you just ask, sweetheart, and you’ll have it.” 

When Neil just looked at him, Simon’s eyes crinkled around the corners. “It’s been a while since I’ve had company like you. I want to make sure you’re comfortable. Is that so bad?” He put his hand on Neil’s face, brushing his thumb over Neil’s lips. 

“No,” Neil said, looking back at the bed. It was bigger than the one he and Andrew shared in Fox Tower. This bed probably wouldn’t even fit inside their room.

But that was a useless thought, and Neil shoved it away before it could invite others.

Under Simon’s watchful gaze, Neil ran his hand over the bedspread. It was soft. Comfortable. Neil sat on the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress. He didn’t want to admit that it felt like heaven. 

The room was sparsely decorated, but there was enough to keep Neil entertained. A TV. A large closet on one side, a big window on the other that looked out onto a carefully kept lawn. Gauzy curtains on the window, so he’d have some privacy. A lock on the door. As Neil scoped out the room (analyzing his surroundings, memorizing exit points, emergency escape routes) under the guise of shy curiosity, Simon watched him and smiled. 

“Do you have any belongings?” Simon asked gently. “I can have them picked up and delivered here.”

Neil shook his head. Simon frowned. 

“Nothing? No clothes, even?” He appraised Neil’s skimpy outfit, and Neil pretended to be shy, curling his arms around himself. 

“They gave me these,” Neil mumbled. 

A dark crease formed between Simon’s brows. “Did they mistreat you?” He glanced at the scars on Neil’s face, his expression darkening.

The tone of his voice implied that he would be quick to denounce the Foxes if he’d found out they hurt Neil, so Neil shook his head quickly. “No, of course not.” Neil raised his hand to his face. “I got these a long time ago, in the brothel. My - their gang saved me.” And they had, in every sense of the word. The Foxes had saved him. Andrew had saved him. 

“And brought you to me,” Simon said with another slow smile. His voice changed, and he sounded as if he were reading the happy ending of a story. As if he were Neil’s true savior. 

Neil pushed his feelings down. There wasn’t any room for them here. He smiled back at Simon. 

“I thought you didn’t like them,” Simon said. Neil winced. 

“I just don’t like what they do. I don’t like violence. It scares me.” He made himself small and vulnerable, shy and timid as he looked back up at Simon through his lashes.

Those words sparked a low heat of desire in Simon’s eyes, and he looked at Neil for a long moment. Neil bit his lip and leaned back on the bed. He was sure Simon was going to push him down and get on top of him, but instead, he said, “I’ll let you get settled, then, and when you’re done, I’ll come and give you a tour.”

And he left Neil alone.

 

*

 

The first day was . . . fine. 

Simon gave Neil some new clothes, a large t-shirt of his and a pair of small shorts. He didn’t give Neil anything else to wear. (Though he kept insisting that all Neil had to do was ask if he wanted anything more. Neil didn’t ask. It was better this way; it would make him more enticing. To make Simon think Neil was perfectly happy with the bare minimum was to make himself more desirable, to make Simon want to coddle him more).

He made sure Neil was fed. Simon had his cook prepare a decent meal, and sat with Neil until he finished it.

He gave Neil a tour of the mansion, and Neil made sure to catalogue every single entry and exit he passed. He didn’t really need to - before the job, Catherine had given the Foxes plans and blueprints of Simon’s house, and they’d all studied them to the letter. Neil already knew the layout. But he pretended to  _ ooh  _ and  _ aah  _ and acted like a pauper being shown the prince’s castle as Simon lead him along.

And then Simon left Neil alone in his room again. He said he needed to do some work, and that there were a thousand channels on the TV Neil could choose from.

It was quiet. It was big, too big, much bigger than Fox Tower, and too empty. But Neil made himself settle. He curled up in his new bed in his new clothes and turned on the TV.

And he waited.

 

*

 

The first day became a second, and a third, and a fourth, until it was the first week. 

Which became a second, and a third, and a fourth. 

Neil didn’t know it was going to last that long. None of them did. 

Time melted together. Neil never saw a calendar once during his stay with Simon. He only knew what day it was when he watched the news, and that was the only reason he figured out that he’d been in Simon’s mansion for over a month. 

 

*

 

Simon always came for him at night, and when he did, Neil let himself slip away from his mind as his body did the work it was supposed to do. He did whatever he could to please Simon. It was hard, at first, getting used to a man who wasn’t Andrew. But Simon was gentle with him. That was what made it worse - Simon never forced him. He treated Neil nicely and made sure he was always comfortable. Neil hated that the most. He thought it might be better if Simon was rough with him. That way he wouldn’t feel bad in the end when the Foxes had to kill him.

Catherine had made it clear that she didn’t care what the outcome was - whether her husband ended up dead or in jail - just as long as his empire fell, and she got her money. But Neil knew from the second Simon laid a hand on him that Andrew would kill him in the end. Death was the only option for him after that.

Neil had gone into this with a clear head. He knew what he was supposed to do. He was doing this for Andrew, for their future, for their life together. 

But he wasn’t counting on Simon.

At first, he’d thought Simon would be like all the others Neil had taken to bed in the past. But he wasn’t. He was . . . kind. He was gentle, and sweet, and caring. He never acted like he was owed anything, never took without asking. When he came into Neil’s room, he treated Neil like a treasure, not a slave. And Neil wasn’t a slave. He was allowed to roam the house freely, allowed to do what he wanted when Simon wasn’t home. He wasn’t kept under guard. Wasn’t given any restrictions. 

Except that he just couldn’t leave the house. Couldn’t go outside. 

When he asked once, Simon smiled and said, “No, sweetheart,” in a tone that made Neil decide he wasn’t going to ask again. Neil climbed into his lap and let Simon have him as an apology for bringing it up. 

Afterwards, Neil thought it wasn’t that bad that he couldn’t go outside. It was a nice house, after all. And the view from his window was enough. 

 

*

 

He and Simon ate breakfast together every morning. Sometimes dinner, but the evenings were when Simon did most of his work. Sometimes, Neil was allowed to sit in on that work. 

During the month that passed, Neil tried to find out everything he could about how the Foxes were doing, if they were succeeding on their end. He couldn’t act like he knew too much, but he put on a curious and innocent face that Simon positively ate up. Little by little, Neil was given information. Never all the details, but enough to make him feel reassured. Simon liked his new partners. He trusted them. 

“They do good business,” he said. They were going to make him richer than ever.

Neil was happy. 

Everything was going smoothly. It was all working.

Simon never mentioned his wife, and Neil never brought her up. Even when they watched Kathy Ferdinand’s show on TV.

 

*

 

After a while, Neil realized he was starting to forget himself. A month with Simon passed, and Neil found himself wishing they didn’t have to kill him.

All he had to do was think of Andrew before the guilt started to eat him alive, and he retreated back to his room until Simon came for him again. 

Neil didn’t forget about Andrew. He couldn’t. He just . . . put him aside. It was the necessary thing, what he had to do in order to give himself over to Simon. Whenever Neil felt himself start to slip, he closed his eyes and reminded himself why he was there.

Every time Simon thrust into him, Neil had to tell himself over and over again that Simon wasn’t nice. He’d seen enough of Simon’s work to know. He had killed people. (But they had all killed people). He had done horrible things. (But they had all done horrible things). Neil wasn’t supposed to feel sympathy for him.

Whenever Simon kissed him, Neil closed his eyes and thought of Andrew. 

He could never decide if that made it better or worse.

Every time Simon was nice to him, it became harder and harder to remember reality. Neil got whiplash trying to keep himself focused.

When he was alone - in the bath, mostly, and in the long, late hours of the night - Neil repeated his mantra to himself:  _ Andrew, Andrew, Andrew.  _ After this was over, they could run and never look back. He just had to stay with Simon for a little while longer. Stay with him, and stay Nathaniel, for just a little bit more time.

One day, Neil thought so hard that Andrew must have heard him. 

Because he showed up the next night.

 

*

 

Andrew dreamt of blood and the feeling of a man’s life eking out underneath his hands. 

He didn’t know if he could do this for much longer.

It had been a month, according to Dan. Time wasn’t relevant to Andrew anymore. Since Simon had taken Neil, he’d been dead inside, cold and empty. His days passed slowly and without light; his nights passed sleeplessly. He’d never felt this way before. He’d come close more than once in the course of his life - Drake did that to him, but Aaron was always there to pull Andrew back out. 

Aaron was still here, but there was nothing he could to help his brother this time. This was a different kind of emptiness. A different kind of numbing pain.

Andrew hardly spoke to the rest of the Foxes, not even Renee. All he thought about, every day, every night, was killing Simon. During the Foxes’ periodical meetings with Simon, Andrew never interacted with him - Dan always did most of the talking, and sometimes Renee, Allison and Kevin joined in. They were the negotiators when it came to jobs like this one; Andrew, Aaron, Nicky and Matt were the muscle. Andrew never had to talk to Simon. He made sure to keep a calm, unaffected expression on his face every time he looked at him. But in his head, Andrew pictured slicing Simon’s throat open. 

A month had gone by, and Andrew thought they were no closer to being done with this. Dan said they were almost through, that they just had to have patience for a few more weeks, at most. But Andrew didn’t believe it. Simon trusted the Foxes, but he still wasn’t giving them all the information they would need if they truly expected to bring him down. Dan put on a positive front, but Andrew could tell she was frustrated. All of the Foxes were getting frustrated as more and more time began to pass.

Catherine checked in with them every week. She kept insisting that the Foxes have patience. She kept reminding them of the money she was going to pay them if they followed this through.

Andrew didn’t care about the money. He’d never cared about the money. He’d only done this for Neil. 

But he’d had enough. 

It was time to end this, one way or the other. He wanted to go find Neil, kill Simon, and get as far away as they could possibly get from all this. He didn’t care where they went, so long as he could keep Neil safe, could keep him from ever doing anything like this again. Andrew would sacrifice anything. He would give Neil anything he wanted if it meant Neil would never martyr himself for the sake of their relationship again.

Andrew’s motivation was his anger, and he let it fuel him. He let it keep him alive for the month Neil was gone from him. He didn’t think about what Simon must have been doing to Neil. About what Neil was  _ letting  _ him do. He just thought about Simon on the ground in front of him, begging for his life.

 

*

 

Andrew knew where Simon Ferdinand lived. Catherine had told the Foxes everything they needed to know about him. Andrew knew the plans of the house, had studied the blueprints with the rest of the Foxes. He knew where Simon might be keeping Neil. 

While the Foxes slept soundly in the suites of their hotel, Andrew took his knives, tucked a gun into his waistband under his shirt, and snuck out, quiet as a shadow. 

He paused in the doorway of his room before he left. The suites they’d been staying in were on one of the highest floors of the hotel, and split up into four rooms with an adjoining living room and kitchen area that connected them all. Andrew had been sharing a room with Nicky for a month; all the rooms had two beds, but everyone else had someone to share a mattress with. Matt and Dan, Renee and Allison, Kevin and Aaron. Nicky complained about missing Erik and wanting to visit him once this was all over. Andrew hardly ever responded to him when they were in the room together, but Nicky talked at length about what he planned to do with the payout from this job. He wanted to move back in with Erik. Wanted a life with him. The other Foxes had been talking about their plans for the future, too. Kevin and Aaron murmured about getting their own place, maybe a dog. Aaron could go to med school while Kevin could follow in the footsteps of his father and take over Wymack’s business. Matt and Dan wanted to stay close to the city so Matt could be near his still-ailing mother, and so Dan could stick around and help Kevin and Wymack. Renee and Allison talked about finding a building to use for the women and children’s shelter Renee wanted to start. 

No one said it out loud, but they all knew: this job would be their last. They would always be Foxes at heart, but this would be the end of them. 

They’d all been at this for five years, anyway. The Foxes loved each other - always, loyally and fiercely - but they wanted bigger things for themselves. It was time for them to hang up their hats, pass the torch onto someone else. Dan was talking about finding new recruits, someone to take their places when the Foxes got their money from this job and split up. She was already working with Wymack and Kevin to find suitable replacements. 

For the last month, during their downtime, Andrew had been listening to his family plan out their lives. Every word pained him. He couldn’t think about his life after this, because it only reminded him that the reason Neil wasn’t by his side every day was because he was whoring himself out to a man so that he and Andrew could have a future. It made Andrew sick. It made him angry. He didn’t  _ want  _ to be angry at Neil. But he was. 

Andrew stood paused in the doorway of his bedroom in the middle of the night, staring at Nicky sleeping on the bed opposite from his. He said a silent goodbye. He’d miss Nicky. He would always be grateful to his cousin for getting him and Aaron out of the foster home, and Andrew hoped Nicky got everything he wanted with Erik.

He went to Aaron and Kevin’s room. They were sleeping in the same bed, tucked close together, Aaron spooned against Kevin’s chest. Kevin was curled around him. Andrew said goodbye to them, too. 

Aaron might hate him for this. But Aaron had Kevin. He was always going to have Kevin. As soon as Aaron and Kevin had become a pair, Andrew knew his brother didn’t need him anymore. They’d spent their lives together in foster care, protecting each other, watching each other’s backs. And then, when Nicky had rescued them, the three of them had only had each other before the Foxes found them. But Nicky had Erik, too. 

Andrew never had anyone like that until he met Neil. Aaron and Nicky were his family, but Andrew had no choice but to leave them now. Neil was his family, too. More than that.

Andrew moved out of the room and to the doors of their suites that lead into the hallway. He wondered how much Neil had changed in the last month. Did he look the same? Smell the same? 

“Andrew,” Renee said behind him, so quietly. Andrew stopped, shoulders stiff. He turned to face her. 

“You cannot stop me from doing this,” he said. No one could. Not now. Renee nodded. Her eyes were sad. 

“I know,” she said. “I was hoping you might let me come with you.”

Andrew shook his head. Renee gave him a small smile. “I knew you would say that. I wanted to ask anyway.” She held out her arms. After a minute, Andrew stepped into them. He hugged her once, tightly, before he stepped away, no expression on his face. 

“Take care of each other,” Renee whispered, leaning in to kiss Andrew’s cheek. He let her. He squeezed her hand. “Contact us, if you can.”

Andrew nodded. 

Renee watched him leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's going on with neil y'all!! next chapter on saturday, expect it to come a little earlier in the day because i'll be home from school and i won't have classes


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> andrew talks a lot more in this fic than he usually does and he's more emotional than he is in the books. and also neil is different, but like i said he's adjusted a little bit to fit the main character of my original story. this is also a bit of a shorter chapter i think. hope you guys like it!

In the dark of the night, Andrew found his way to Simon Ferdinand’s mansion. 

It sat just outside the high city, in a private neighborhood with perfectly manicured lawns and giant houses. Simon’s sat apart from all the rest, on top of a grassy rise. It was much bigger than the others. 

All the lights were off inside. It was late enough that Andrew knew even Simon, whose work must keep him up late most nights, would be asleep. Andrew had memorized the plans of the house. He knew every inch of Simon’s impressive security system. He knew how to dismantle every alarm and camera so he wouldn’t get caught. He’d always been the Foxes’ shadow, after all. 

He was very, very careful, and very, very quiet as he snuck around the side of the house to where he thought Simon might be keeping Neil. Andrew’s heart beat loudly in his chest. Neil, Neil, Neil. Over a month without him. It had been worse than any other kind of withdrawal. 

Andrew stopped in front of a window on the first floor of the house. He knew it was Neil’s room right away - the curtains were pulled back from the window, and in the moonlight, he could  _ just  _ see that auburn hair against the white pillow through the glass. Neil was on his side, facing away from the window. 

Andrew just stared at the back of his head for a second, his breath caught in his chest. Every part of him hurt. He hadn’t seen his lover in a month, and the sight of him again after so much time felt like fire and acid and ice in his veins all at once. He wanted to rip his heart out of his chest. He wanted to hate Neil for putting them through this, for bringing them both here. He wanted to find Simon and choke him in his sleep. Andrew wanted his own face to be the last thing Simon Ferdinand saw before he died.

Neil turned in his sleep. 

He wasn’t actually sleeping.

His eyes were open, and he saw Andrew through the window.

 

*

 

Neil’s eyes widened. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming. It wouldn’t be the first time. He’d dreamt of Andrew almost every night in the last month. But this couldn’t be real. Because if it was real, if Andrew was really standing outside his window, the two of them and every single one of the Foxes was dead.

And then Andrew moved. 

Neil sat up. For a second, they just stared at each other through the window. And then something took hold of Neil’s body. He got out of bed, wrapping a sheet around himself; he was wearing what Simon liked him to wear at night, nothing but a long t-shirt that dipped off his shoulder and fell down to his thighs. He didn’t want Andrew to see him like this, his skin covered in marks that weren’t put there by Andrew.

He opened the window slowly, feeling outside of himself. Neil couldn’t breathe. His eyes watered with tears, and he looked over his shoulder, terrified that Simon was going to wake up and want him and come through his door. If Simon caught Andrew here, it was all over. Everything they’d worked for in the last month would be for nothing. 

Neil looked back at Andrew, who was staring at him with such a dark look in his eyes that for a second Neil recoiled. He’d seen that look on Andrew’s face before. But it had never been directed at him. Such fury, such hatred - it made Neil want to kill himself for ever doing this. He’d always thought Andrew would understand his reasons one day, but maybe he was wrong.

It took him a minute to realize the darkness in Andrew’s gaze wasn’t directed at him. 

At least not all the way.

He opened his mouth to speak. There were so many things he wanted to say to Andrew after a month of separation - so many words bubbled up in his throat, but none of them would come out over the lump that formed and choked him. 

“You can’t be here,” he whispered so quietly. Andrew’s hands clenched into fists. “Please leave before he finds you. Please.” 

Neil knew how Andrew hated that word, but he had to use it right now. It was the only word that would work. 

Andrew didn’t listen. He never  _ listened.  _ He climbed through the window. Neil backed away, shaking his head, hand over his mouth.

 

*

 

Andrew hated the sight of Neil’s tears. He hadn’t seen Neil cry many times before, and it was torture of the worst kind. He wanted to reach out and wipe them all away, to kiss Neil, to touch him after being deprived of him for so long. He’d thought so many times over the last month about what he would say to Neil when they saw each other again, but his only thought now was how much he wanted to touch. To hold him again. 

Neil reached out for him, and Andrew reached back instinctively. But Neil wasn’t embracing him - he tried to push Andrew back towards the window.

“We’re leaving,” Andrew said. It was a battle with himself to keep his voice steady. He wanted to tear something apart with his bare hands. He wanted to burn this house down. “Come on. I’m taking you out of here. We’re not doing this anymore.” His words came out through his teeth. “I don’t care about the money or anything else. You are leaving with me right now, Neil.”

Tears streamed down Neil’s cheeks. “I can’t,” he whispered. Not yet. They were so close. So close to their end goal. So close to the money Catherine had promised them, to the life Neil wanted. “Baby,  _ please,  _ I’m doing this - ”

Andrew’s vision went red. His blood felt too hot inside him; his heart felt too big for his chest, and it choked him. “No. Don’t you  _ dare  _ tell me you’re doing this for us. I can’t fucking hear that from you again.” Neil looked away, shaking his head, hand over his mouth again. Andrew stepped closer to him. “I don’t care about having a good life. I don’t care about the money. We’ll figure something out, if that’s what you want. Just come with me, Neil.” His next breath was ragged and painful. “I can’t do this anymore.” The words fell between them, raw and unchained. 

Neil opened his mouth to say something, and Andrew stepped forward again. He put his hands on Neil for the first time in a month. He couldn’t bear to hear whatever Neil was going to say to him next. He wouldn’t be able to stand it.

And for a moment, just a moment when Andrew touched Neil, the world stopped around them. 

Neil’s heart was in his throat. Andrew’s heart was in his. A month apart suddenly felt like centuries, like eons. Andrew’s hands fell to Neil’s hips, fingers fitting in the spots they’d always fit. He didn’t think about what Neil was wearing, didn’t think about the marks on his skin. Andrew closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Neil. Looking at him would be worse. He leaned his forehead against Neil’s and stroked his soft skin - it was still as soft as it had always been, scars and all - while Neil trembled against him. Andrew recognized fear. He felt Neil’s terror. Neil clutched at him like a lifeline, shaking in his arms. 

Only a moment ago, rage and wrath and a thousand other things that all spelled death and destruction had been battling for space inside Andrew’s head and heart, but now, standing with Neil like this, all he felt was quiet. 

Andrew whispered, eyes closed, “I miss you.” And then, “I can’t do this.”

He had never been like this with anyone before. No one ever saw Andrew’s emotions; the rest of the world wasn’t privy to his heart, not even the Foxes (though they knew he had one - Aaron and Neil and Nicky and Renee proved that). He could never be with anyone else like this ever again. Only Neil could do this to him. Neil could take him apart and put him back together again a thousand times over. And Andrew would let him. He would always, always let him, if it meant Neil would leave with him right now.

Neil put his arms around Andrew’s neck, crying into Andrew’s skin. 

“I miss you, too,” he whispered, and those words felt like a bird taking flight in Andrew’s chest. Neil pulled Andrew tight, holding him close. Andrew held onto him like he was never going to let go again. He buried his face in Neil’s shoulder, and his lips pressed softly against Neil’s neck, against that velvet soft spot just at the column of his throat. He could feel Neil’s tears against his skin, felt his pulse beating fast against his lips.

Andrew pulled back and opened his eyes, finally looking at Neil’s face. He brushed his thumb over Neil’s cheek to wipe away the wetness. 

He leaned in and kissed Neil for the first time in over a month. How the world glimmered. How it broke apart and cracked right down the middle. How it was all set on fire. 

Neil shook and cried quietly into Andrew’s mouth.

 

*

 

Neil knew, with a certainty that terrified him more than anything, that this was it. He didn’t know how this would end, but he knew that it had to end now. He could feel it. 

When Andrew pulled back from him, he finally seemed to notice that something wasn’t right. 

Neil stood in front of him, alive, warm, soft - but there was something . . . different about him. A change that wasn’t visible, but one that Andrew could feel in every part of him. It was in the way Neil held himself. The way he still cried. He had never cried this much before. He had never seemed so . . . delicate. He played delicate all the time, to entice his targets, but Andrew always saw through it, always knew it was fake. 

But the line was blurred now. 

Andrew’s fury rose back up in smothering waves. 

“What did he do to you?” he whispered.

 

*

 

Neil shook his head. He stepped forward, needing to kiss Andrew again. Andrew let him - and the relief of that was crushing, because Neil almost thought that Andrew would step back or push him away. But he didn’t. His arms came up to hold Neil again automatically. Neil really did think he might be dreaming again. 

He kissed Andrew and whispered, “I love you.”

Andrew shuddered around him, took Neil’s lower lip between his teeth and cradled his face so gently in between his hands. He pulled back and took both of Neil’s hands in his own. His eyes still blazed, but he said, “Let’s go.” They just had to leave this place. 

Andrew took one step towards the window.

And that’s when Neil heard the footsteps outside his bedroom door.

 

*

 

Neil froze in absolute, abject fear, his grip on Andrew’s hand bone-crushing, white-knuckled. 

Andrew allowed himself exactly one half second to panic before his instincts and survival skills took hold. He pushed Neil gently onto the bed. He would not let Neil be hurt now. Everything now was about protecting Neil, about keeping him safe. 

Neil let himself be guided, unable to move of his own volition. Andrew went to stand by the door. They were double doors that opened inwards into the room. The handles turned. Andrew didn’t let himself look at Neil, who was shaking on the bed, fresh tears escaping as he cried into his pillow, curled up in a ball. 

Andrew put his back to the wall by the door, and he slowly slipped his gun out of his waistband. His knives were in his sleeves, but a knife wasn’t enough for this. Nothing would ever be enough for this. 

The doors opened into the room. Andrew was hidden behind one when it swung inward, silent as the shadows. When Simon entered the room, it took everything Andrew had in him not to lunge, to stab, to kill. 

Simon approached the bed quickly, hand reaching out to smooth Neil’s hair back from his forehead. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Did you have a nightmare?”

Neil just shook his head. He couldn’t speak. If he did, he would say Andrew’s name. 

“Shh,” Simon soothed, drawing Neil into his lap. Neil didn’t try to stop him. Simon’s back was still turned to Andrew. Neil didn’t dare look at the door, didn’t dare look over Simon’s shoulder. “It’s okay, honey. Tell me what’s upset you.”

When Neil still wouldn’t speak, Simon said, “Let me try to make it better, then.” His voice was sickeningly sweet. Andrew wanted to rip out his vocal cords. He wanted to rip off every one of Simon’s fingers that touched Neil.

Simon laid Neil on his back on the bed and moved over him. 

Andrew stepped forward, every fiber that he was made of ringing with the promise of death. He felt oddly calm. He heard Neil crying, saw Simon start to shove his pants down, and yet he felt  _ calm.  _

When he moved, the floor creaked.

 

*

 

For Andrew, steady and determined, time moved very slow. For Neil, terrified and overwhelmed and numb, everything happened very quickly. 

Simon’s eyes widened at the creak of the floorboards. Neil was looking up at him, and he saw Simon’s face change, felt Simon scramble off of him, felt him turn around and move off the bed. Andrew was ready when Simon faced him. Simon only had a second to reach for the gun he kept strapped to his ankle. 

Neil had always known that gun was there. Simon Ferdinand was a drug lord - it would be stupid of him not to carry a personal weapon on him at all times. Neil knew Simon never took it off, except when they were in bed together. But they hadn’t gotten very far yet, so it was still easy for Simon to reach down and take the gun out of its holster.

Neil knew Simon had the gun. But what Simon didn’t have was guards posted around his house. Neil had seen a few of them, in the beginning, but Simon had sent them away after the first few days. Because Neil told Simon they made him nervous. And Simon wanted Neil to be comfortable.  

Neil wished Simon had kept the guards around. He wished Simon hadn’t been so nice to him. 

He wished he wanted Simon to die. 

Andrew’s own gun was trained on Simon before Simon could unstrap his weapon. When the moonlight shifted in the room, it took Simon only a second to recognize Andrew. 

Andrew watched, gun pointed, hands steady, as things quickly started to come together in Simon’s mind. The man wasn’t stupid. The only thing he didn’t know was that his wife was involved, but now Simon knew that the Foxes weren’t who they said they were.

He waited for Simon to say something, to react, but Simon looked back at Neil.

 

*

 

Neil was frozen. 

He looked back at Simon, shaking his head, but no words would come to him. He wanted to beg, for what he didn’t know. To spare his life. To spare Andrew’s. To let them go. To let Andrew go. If Neil had to stay with Simon for the rest of his life so Andrew could make it out of here alive, he would. 

Things had been moving very fast for Neil, but the moment Simon reached for his gun, everything slowed down.

By the doors, Neil saw Andrew put his finger on the trigger of his weapon. Adrenaline spiked through Neil. He moved as quickly as he could, heart a bomb in his chest. 

“Don’t!” he yelled. 

And he threw himself between Andrew and Simon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHH CLIFFHANGER! NEXT CHAPTER ON MONDAY
> 
> me, screaming in the distance: ANGST! ANGST! ANGST!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are now halfway through this fic!! SCREAMS
> 
> i hope y'all are ready because i have a surprise coming down the line in the next two chapters!

Andrew stopped himself exactly one second before he pulled the trigger. 

Everything in him stilled. 

Neil’s back was to him, arms thrown out to the sides in a desperate effort to protect Andrew. He stood in front of Andrew, facing Simon. 

Simon’s gun was out now. And it was trained directly on Neil’s forehead.

“Move out of the way, Nathaniel,” Simon said softly. What Neil already knew, and what made Andrew pause when he realized, was that Simon didn’t want to hurt Neil. When the realization came to Andrew, he almost lowered his gun. 

Somehow, Simon still believed Neil was innocent. Andrew could see it on the man’s face. Neil had played his part well. (But he always did. They always fell for it. They always believed him. Andrew hated that, despised it, wished it had never been necessary for Neil to gain that kind of skill.) 

But Neil had always known that he could do this. He’d always known that he could use his skills to help them.

Simon thought the Foxes were rats, and he was going to kill them all, but he thought Neil was just confused. He thought Neil didn’t want anyone to get hurt because he was an innocent boy who was frightened by violence. 

He moved his gun away from Neil’s face, but his gaze stayed focused on Andrew. Neil shook his head. “Please, don’t. Don’t hurt him.”

Slowly, bit by bit, Simon lowered his gun. Neil stepped closer to him, away from Andrew. Andrew kept his gun in the air, finger still on the trigger. He didn’t think about how close he’d come to hurting Neil. If he did, he wouldn’t survive. He kept his eyes on Simon, watching every movement. 

Andrew’s stomach lurched when Neil put his arms around Simon. 

Neil closed his eyes as he latched onto Simon’s waist, hating himself for making Andrew watch. He knew this was the best way to keep anyone from getting hurt. Simon trusted him. He liked Neil. He cared about Neil. He wouldn’t risk Neil’s life. Wouldn’t put him in danger. 

“Don’t hurt him,” Neil whispered desperately against Simon’s chest. 

Andrew’s heart was being torn open inside him, strip by agonizing strip, at the sight of Neil with his arms around Simon like that, his body covered in Simon’s marks, wearing Simon’s shirt. Andrew was torn apart by the way Simon put a hand in Neil’s hair and patted his head. Simon’s gun was at his side now. Andrew’s was still up. 

But now he had to keep his hands from shaking.

“I’m taking Nathaniel out of here,” he said. He felt fire everywhere inside him.

Simon said, “I can’t let you do that.”

“He doesn’t belong to you,” Andrew growled, jaw clenched in fury. 

Simon smiled slowly, smugly, like Andrew was a silly child. 

“I think you’ll find that he wants to stay with me,” he said softly. “I’ve never hurt him. I’ve treated him kindly. I care for him, and he cares for me. He’s only protecting you out of some misplaced sense of loyalty towards your gang for rescuing him from the bath house.” While he spoke, he pet Neil’s hair, running his hand down Neil’s back, as if to  _ calm _ him. But Andrew saw the way Neil still trembled. He couldn’t be calmed. 

Andrew was the only one who had ever been able to calm him, to soothe him when he was upset, and that would never change. To think that Simon thought that he had that effect on Neil, that bond with him, made Andrew’s finger tighten on the trigger of his gun again. 

“I don’t have time to explain to you how wrong you are,” Andrew said. “Nathaniel isn’t yours. He will never be yours.”

Simon smirked. “So he’s yours, is he? Is that why he jumped in front of you? Or do you just wish he was yours? Pretty boy like him, I can’t say I blame you.” He nodded as if he understood everything now. “I see what’s going on here. Your friends don’t know you’re here, do they? You’ve come here out of jealousy, thinking you would be the hero, rescuing poor Nathaniel from his captor, thinking, what, that he would be grateful to you? That he would return your feelings?” Simon laughed, and the sound scraped down Andrew’s spine. “He doesn’t want to be rescued, boy. He wants to stay here with me.”

Neil sobbed in Simon’s arms. Simon smiled down at him and whispered, “Shh, sweetheart. It’s alright. I’m here.”

Andrew’s restraint snapped.

In the second that Simon looked away from Andrew to comfort Neil, Andrew darted forward. He knocked Simon’s gun out of his hand, sending it skittering across the floor. Simon lunged for him, and in the chaos, Neil was knocked to the ground. His hands shook. In the back of his head, Andrew heard Neil begging for them to stop. 

But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. 

Simon knocked Andrew’s gun away with a sharp punch to his wrist that nearly shattered bone, but before he could do any serious damage, Andrew had a knife out. 

The fight was all he could focus on. He slashed his blade and felt a vicious curl of satisfaction when he heard Simon curse, when he saw blood bloom in several places where Andrew managed to nick the other man. 

But it wasn’t enough to knock Simon down. 

And Simon was a good fighter. 

And he was older, and taller, and stronger than Andrew. 

In another few hits, Simon got Andrew on the ground.

It had been years since Drake’s abuse, and Neil had helped Andrew heal, but Andrew still remembered the familiar panic at feeling the heavy weight of another body on top of his. 

Andrew wasn’t fast enough to raise his arms to protect his face, and Simon landed heavy blows on him. Andrew felt his nose crack, felt blood spurt from it. Felt his lip split, tasted copper in his mouth. Gasped in pain when Simon gave him a black eye.

As he struggled, Simon stole his knife from him. 

*

 

On the ground, limbs paralyzed from fear, Neil screamed Andrew’s name. He watched as Simon held Andrew down, one arm over his throat and his weight pinning Andrew’s legs to the floor. His other arm bashed Andrew’s face, hitting him several times. Neil heard the impact of Simon’s fist to Andrew’s face. He screamed for Simon to stop. He saw Andrew’s blood cover the floor, and an anguished cry ripped from his throat, but it did nothing to stop Simon. 

And then Simon raised Andrew’s knife in the air. 

The same invisible force that had compelled Neil to jump between Andrew and Simon the first time brought movement back to his legs. His heart stopped, and time slowed again, and Neil’s only thought was that a world without Andrew wasn’t a world he would ever find worthy enough to live in, and that this was fault. If Andrew died, it would be his fault, and then he would die, too.

He jumped up and dove between Andrew and Simon, covering Andrew’s body with his own, throwing his arms around Andrew’s neck, eyes squeezed shut tight.  

The knife came down in his side.

 

*

 

The world went silent. 

Simon’s eyes widened in shock as he realized what he had just done. He shook his head furiously. 

“No,” he said. “No, you  _ stupid _ boy - ” He put his hands on the knife again, buried deep to the hilt in Neil’s body, and attempted to take it out of him. Neil cried out in pain at the movement. His blood seeped into Andrew’s clothes, soaking both of them in red. Simon removed his hands immediately, still shaking his head. He made a wounded sound in the back of his throat.

Andrew was frozen solid, unable to think, to move, to speak. He watched Neil’s blood pour out of the wound in his side, seeping into the white t-shirt he wore and staining it crimson, giant blossoms blooming rapidly. There was so much blood. It was everywhere. It poured down Neil’s legs and thighs, over his stomach. Neil choked and gasped on top of Andrew, the knife sticking out of his side. His hands were curled against Andrew’s chest, and they twitched. His breath was warm on Andrew’s neck, and it rattled.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. Andrew was not watching this happen. His brain felt fuzzy; his entire body felt numb. He heard a strange humming in his ears and felt a cramping, twisting pain in his heart.

He felt as if he were only just watching a movie. This wasn’t his life. He was watching  _ The Outsiders,  _ and this was the scene where Dally died. The part that always made Andrew have to remember to breathe over the lump in his throat. He was like Ponyboy, helpless and half-dizzy when he watched Neil move. When Neil used the last of his strength to push Simon away from Andrew. 

Neil didn’t feel any pain right now. He would later, he was sure, but all he felt in the moment was numbness, and a rush of fire and adrenaline and desperation. The need to protect Andrew, to save him, was the only thing that moved him. 

Neil screamed. He jumped on top of Simon. 

With a guttural sound of pain that would haunt Andrew for the rest of his waking life, Neil pulled the knife out of his own side and plunged it into Simon’s chest.

 

*

 

Neil took the knife out of Simon’s chest and plunged it back in again. 

And again.

And again.

Simon’s hands grabbed uselessly at Neil, attempting to pull him off, but Neil kept stabbing. He did it until blood bubbled out of Simon’s mouth, and his soft brown eyes went dead, and his body stilled completely under Neil. 

Neil’s vision was blurry, and his hands trembled and cramped up with panic as he finally took the knife out again and let it drop to the ground. It clattered to the wooden floor, covered in blood. 

Neil looked at his shaking hands, dripping and red, and sobbed. He sat on top of Simon’s broad chest, soaking in the blood that spilled from the dozen or so wounds Neil had made. His eyes were still open. They were still looking at Neil. 

Simon, who had kept Neil for over a month. Who had treated him kindly. Who never really wanted to hurt Neil. Who just wanted to care for him. 

Neil never wanted him to die, and he  _ hated  _ that, didn’t understand it, couldn’t bear it. It was the worst part of all this. Worse than any of the pain. Simon had compromised him. He had ruined him. 

And Andrew had already seen it. 

“ _ What did he do to you?”  _ Andrew’s words, whispered earlier in furious disbelief.

Neil sobbed again, and this time it tore him open. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHH sorry this took so long to post, crazy day
> 
> SEE Y'ALL ON WEDNESDAY


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some familiar faces show up in this chapter!

Andrew watched Neil murder Simon Ferdinand, watched while he screamed and cried and bled and stabbed the knife into Simon’s chest, and he didn’t try to stop him. 

He didn’t move from where he still lay on the floor until he heard Neil’s last broken sob. Then his body and his mind reset to autopilot. 

Neil was bleeding. He was badly injured. They had to get him out of here and to medical care immediately.

Andrew didn’t think about the blood covering him, about the evidence of a crime scene littering the room. His own pain from the injuries on his face hardly registered in his mind. He didn’t care anymore. He knew what he had to do. There were precautions in place, measures the Foxes had set up with Wymack’s help when they were first starting out as a gang. The amount of influence the Foxes had on the Columbia streets had gotten them access to underground connections, to be used only in case of emergencies. The underground route was always considered the last resort, the last option left if everything else went to shit. The Foxes never expected to use it. They cleaned up their jobs. They never left anything behind. They always got away with it, and they always earned their keep. If they had to go underground, in hiding, it was because they had failed. And the Foxes never failed.

A plan pieced itself together quickly in Andrew’s head as he pushed himself off the ground, wincing a little. He might have a cracked rib, and the cuts on his face stung.

They couldn’t go back to the hotel where the rest of the Foxes were. Maybe Andrew would leave a note for them somewhere, explaining where they’d gone, but even that might be too much of a risk. Andrew didn’t think too hard about it. The Foxes were smart. They would figure it out. The only thing that mattered now was getting Neil help.

Andrew stood up. He moved over to Neil and knelt down beside him. Neil was still looking at his shaking, bloody hands, his breath coming in panicked gasps, his eyes as wide as they could go, pupils blown out.

Andrew put a cautious, gentle hand on Neil’s shoulder, and Neil didn’t flinch. He looked slowly up at Andrew, his face bloody and tear-streaked. 

“I killed him,” he whispered, voice raspy and broken. “He - he was - ” Neil choked. He fell forward and collapsed into Andrew’s chest. Andrew’s arms went around him instantly, a hand with bloody knuckles coming up to cradle the back of Neil’s head. “I killed him, Andrew. Oh God, oh God, I killed him, he’s  _ dead,  _ Jesus Christ - ”

He had killed before. They had all killed before, for any number of reasons, and none of the Foxes had ever had much of a guilty conscience. When Neil killed his father, he was viciously glad. When he killed Lola, he was fiercely satisfied. 

But Simon had . . . he was as kind to Neil as he could’ve been. He had never once hit Neil, or even raised his voice at him, or used force on him. 

Neil stared down at Simon’s dead body again, nausea rising in his stomach and throat. They couldn’t just leave him here. They couldn’t leave him like this. He didn’t - Neil had just wanted him to go to jail. He didn’t want Simon to die.  _ Stop it, stop it, stop it,  _ Neil screamed to himself in his head.  _ Stop fucking thinking this way. Look what he’s done to you. Andrew is right. _

“Neil,” Andrew said, voice hard and firm. The sound of it pulled Neil back to reality. Back into focus, like it always did. The sound of Andrew’s voice wiped the blurriness from his vision and calmed the erratic heartbeat in his chest, just a little. “We have to go. You need help.” 

Neil hadn’t even noticed that he was bleeding out. Andrew pulled him up and off of Simon, gently but insistently. He still had one knife left in his other sleeve, and he grabbed his gun from where it had fallen earlier when Simon knocked it out of his hand.

Andrew put his arm around Neil’s shoulder and helped lift him up and out of the bedroom window, as carefully as he could. Neil could barely walk. He was in a state of shock now, catatonic. Andrew scooped him up with both arms to carry him.

They had no way to get out of this place. 

Andrew paused with Neil in his arms on the outside edge of the property, looking at the sky. It wasn’t sunrise yet. No gunshots had gone off in the fight, so none of the neighbors were awake. There were still no lights on in Simon’s house. The night was quiet aside from Neil’s ragged breathing. 

Andrew sat Neil down gently on the ground. Neil went, staring blankly ahead, his eyes unfocused and bleary. His skin had lost all its color. 

Andrew tore a strip of cloth off the t-shirt Neil still wore and used it to create a tourniquet to staunch the bleeding in Neil’s side as much as he could. Neil barely moved, hardly reacted. Andrew didn’t speak to him. With one hand, he kept the cloth pressed to Neil’s wound, and with the other, he took out a small, slim cell phone from his pocket. All the Foxes carried them, everywhere they went, but they were hardly ever used. Only in case of emergencies. 

Andrew dialed a number. 

“Hey,” he said gruffly into the phone. He spat blood out of his mouth. “I need your help. Get here as fast as you fucking can.”

 

*

 

When Jeremy Knox arrived, he had Jean Moreau with him. Five years ago, when Neil first joined the Foxes, Jeremy Knox had managed to barter a deal with the Ravens that let Jean join the Trojans. Riko wasn’t happy about it, but ultimately, it was Ichirou’s choice, and Ichirou let Jean go. Andrew never knew what Jeremy promised him in exchange for Jean, and he didn’t care. Jean was better off with the Trojans than he ever was as Riko’s pet. 

Jean and Jeremy arrived in a nondescript black car, the engine purring silently, the plates unrecognizable. The windows were tinted. It had a backseat large enough for Andrew to lay Neil down in. 

“Jesus,” Jeremy said, his face white as Jean helped Andrew get Neil into the car. “What the fuck happened? Kevin told me about the job, but I thought - ”

“Shut up,” Andrew growled through his teeth. Jeremy shut up. He waited for Jean to give Andrew the medical kit they’d brought with them before Jean returned to the passenger seat, gravely silent, and Jeremy put his foot on the gas. They drove away from Simon’s manor, leaving blood and DNA and a body behind. Jean turned in his seat to watch Neil, his face stoic.

Andrew opened the medical kit and took out everything he knew what to do with - bandages, antiseptic. He wasn’t a doctor. 

But he knew someone who was. 

“Abby’s,” he snapped at Jeremy from the backseat. 

“Got it.” Jeremy turned away from the road that would lead them back to the city. They couldn’t go back there now. Maybe not ever.

Andrew’s eyes never left Neil as they headed towards help. He watched Neil’s breathing, keeping a hand over Neil’s mouth to make sure there was still breath in his lungs. He monitored the slow rise and fall of Neil’s chest. He checked the knife wound and was bone-deep terrified to find that it was still bleeding. He poured antiseptic over it and cleaned it as best as he could, and Neil didn’t even move. His eyes were still open, but they just stared at the roof of the car. 

Andrew tried to get him to respond, saying his name and touching his skin softly, but his only luck was the twitch of Neil’s hand against his thigh once. It was almost enough to reassure him. But not quite.

Andrew called ahead to tell Abby they were coming. Abigail Winfield was a woman Wymack had taken up with about a decade or so after Kayleigh Day died; Abby was a doctor, and the Foxes’ emergency medic when they needed stitching they couldn’t do themselves. She lived outside of Columbia, in a small out-of-the-way suburban area where she ran her own clinic. Wymack had always warned the Foxes never to get Abby involved in any of the dangerous stuff, and so they never did. They visited her occasionally, when they had time off, or she came down to visit them if Wymack was feeling lonely. They played cards together and gambled. 

They’d always kept her out of things like this before, out of jobs this big. She dressed their wounds, but she never knew where the Foxes got them. 

A small stone of guilt wedged its way into Andrew’s heart, but it was easy to swallow in the face of Neil’s condition. 

Abby was waiting for them when Jeremy pulled the car up outside her clinic. She’d come to open it for them in the middle of the night. She reserved her reactions when she saw Neil; Andrew saw her force herself to swallow her gasp and hold back her tears. Abby helped Andrew and Jean carry Neil inside and get him on a table. 

She tried. She did. But it didn’t take very long for her to say, “Andrew, he needs more help than I can give. Tools that I don’t have. I can patch him up, but it won’t be enough, he needs surgery, a hospital - ”

Andrew cut her off and said, “Get Bee.”

 

*

 

Betsy Dobson was the next part of Andrew’s plan. Above Neil, above Aaron and Renee and Nicky, Bee was the person Andrew trusted never to let him down. 

She was Wymack’s old friend, she ran the clinic part-time with Abby, and she doubled as a psychiatrist, a friend and an ear to listen when the Foxes needed her. She knew their stories, their pasts, their traumas. 

And she was the liaison between the Foxes and their underground connections. She could get Andrew and Neil out of here. 

It didn’t take long for her to arrive, but it felt like a lifetime to Andrew as he watched Abby try to work on Neil. Andrew stood on the other side of the metal table, holding Neil’s hand as Abby dressed his wound and cleaned his body. Neil never blinked, never reacted to either of their touches or words. 

“Neil,” Abby said softly. “Can you hear me?” She waved a hand in front of his face, and when he didn’t give any indication that she was there, Abby let out a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry, Neil.” She looked up at Andrew. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Andrew just shook his head. Wymack would never forgive him for implicating Abby. Abby seemed to understand, because she pursed her lips and nodded solemnly before she returned her attention to Neil. There wasn’t much more she could do for him. He was still losing blood. He’d lost so much of it already. Most of it covered Andrew. 

“Maybe you should get cleaned up - ” Abby started to suggest, but Andrew gave her a fierce glare. He was not leaving Neil’s side. Abby sighed. “Should I call David?”

“Do what you want,” Andrew said, eyes on Neil’s face. He reached out a hand and brushed his thumb over Neil’s scarred cheek. If Abby called Wymack, Andrew knew that Wymack would know something went wrong. And he also knew that Wymack wouldn’t try to find them, wouldn’t try to get involved. Andrew had already sent Jeremy and Jean back with a message for the rest of the Foxes. He hadn’t said much, but he thought it was enough, and what he didn’t say, he knew Jeremy would do a good job of communicating. Jeremy would make it poetic. He hoped Aaron wouldn’t hate him. Hoped Nicky would understand.

Maybe, one day, somehow, he would get to see them again, but he didn’t have much hope for that.

 

*

 

Neil kept losing blood. While they waited for Bee to show up, he lost consciousness. Andrew saw his eyes flicker. Watched them flutter shut. Watched his breathing get slower.

It took everything Andrew had in him not to strangle Abby with his bare hands. She wasn’t supposed to let this happen. 

Abby ransacked her medical supplies and called on every skill she had, and she managed to find a temporary way to stop the bleeding. It wouldn’t hold for long, and they needed to get Neil into surgery somehow as quick as possible. Bee could help them with that. She could get them where they needed to go. She just needed to  _ get here. _

For a moment that stretched and felt like a year, Andrew was forced to consider what a life without Neil would be like.

It wouldn’t be a life at all. Andrew would be dead, too. The minute Neil’s heart stopped, Andrew would find a way to stop his own. Once upon a time, he would’ve kept himself alive for his brother’s sake. But once his brother stopped needing him, once Kevin became Aaron’s world, Andrew didn’t have any reason for staying alive except for Neil. Neil was what kept him moving, kept his heart beating. Aaron and Nicky were bright lights always on the edge of his vision, pinpricks in his mind, strings in his heart that pulled tight occasionally, but Neil was the center Andrew revolved around. He didn’t have anything else.

By the time Betsy arrived, Andrew was on an edge he couldn’t afford to fall over. Not while there was a chance Neil could still live. Andrew knew that in the back of his mind, knew that all hope was not yet lost, but in the forefront of his thoughts was that Neil was unconscious, and time was running out. 

When Bee walked through the door, Andrew said through his teeth, “Get us out of here right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter on friday! with a special surprise attached to it!!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of ooc andrew in this chapter?? he feels a LOT of emotions

The medical facility Bee brought them to was quite literally underground, in the basement below a seemingly innocuous building that housed a pharmaceutical company. The facility had doctors and surgeons and state-of-the-art medical equipment, and it connected to a series of underground tunnels that would get Andrew and Neil far away from Columbia and on their way to . . . Andrew didn’t know where exactly yet. Neil had always wanted to go somewhere warm, with a beach. Maybe they could cross the border. It would be the safest option for them. 

Bee left them at the entrance to the facility. Andrew wouldn’t let her take them any further. If she knew where they were going, she would be implicated, too, and he wouldn’t have that on his conscience. Not Bee. She and Andrew looked at each other, a silent goodbye that said so much in so little words. He would miss her. 

“Andrew,” she said, as Andrew carried Neil’s unconscious body so carefully in his arms. “Take care of each other. Be safe, and be happy.”

Andrew nodded. He wished he could hug her, but he wouldn’t put Neil down. Bee squeezed his shoulder instead and leaned their foreheads together, and Andrew closed his eyes. 

Then she was gone.

Andrew was blank and cold as he carried Neil’s unresponsive body through the flickering halls of the facility. His own body was still covered in Neil’s blood, and it had dried on his skin and clothes, stiff and tacky.

Andrew turned into the first room he saw, where someone who looked like a doctor was looking through papers. Andrew kicked the door open. The doctor looked up, startled, and gasped. He jumped up from his seat and pushed a button on his desk, speaking into a receiver attached to it. “I need surgeons in Office 103 with a gurney and life support immediately.”

Before the doctor could ask any questions, Andrew said, “Betsy brought us here. We’re Foxes.” And that was enough. The doctor’s face immediately changed, and he nodded seriously. He rushed to lead Andrew out into the hallway, where a number of other doctors were now running towards them, pushing a gurney and equipment along with them. 

“Save his fucking life or I will end all of yours,” Andrew threatened sharply. He still had his gun and one knife left, and he would follow through on his promise if Neil’s heart stopped beating. 

He didn’t want to let go of Neil’s body, but he had to.

No one stopped him when he followed them into the operating room. He stood back to let the surgeons do their work, but only just behind them, his eyes fixated on Neil’s face. 

“What was it?” one of the doctors asked him. 

“Knife wound,” Andrew said, teeth grinding, anxiety making him itch, burn, hurt. 

“Severe liver damage,” one of the surgeons diagnosed as they started emergency surgery, undressing the wound Abby had tried desperately to fix. Neil’s shirt was long gone by now, and his body was cold and pale. “Extreme blood loss, hemorrhaging, internal bleeding. Looks like it nicked a lung, too. BP 180 over 123, condition critical. I need a shunt,  _ now.  _ Get him on an IV drip and oxygen.”

Andrew’s hearing fuzzed out, and all he heard was a low whine in his ears. All he could see were the bright lights, sparkling too much, blinding him, and Neil, stretched out with his eyes closed on the operating table.

They had hooked Neil up to a heart monitor, and Andrew’s eyes moved to the screen, watching that green line go up and down, far too fast and erratically. 

Andrew couldn’t see much of what the surgeons were doing from his vantage point, but they moved constantly, as fast as they could. He thought they might have given Neil a blood transfusion. They weren’t talking anymore. The tension in the air threatened to make Andrew’s head explode, to make him go off on one of them. 

Time stretched again, going too fast one minute and far too slow the next. 

After what must have been more than an hour, two hours, three, the surgeons put down their tools. They stepped back and looked at each other, heavy sighs passing through them. It felt like relief.

And then, the low whine in Andrew’s ears became the prolonged, steady beep of Neil’s heart flatlining.

 

*

 

Everything in Andrew went silent. Dead. Empty, inside and out. For two seconds, he watched the flat line on Neil’s heart monitor. He heard one of the doctors say, “Get me the paddles.” He saw them start to move again. 

A blind rage took over him, and he thought about killing every single one of them who couldn’t save Neil. There were so many things in this room he could use as weapons. He would kill them all and then himself. 

The doctors began CPR, and Andrew moved forward. 

He pushed one or two of them out of his way, ignoring their protests. Later, Andrew would realize how stupid he had been, how idiotic. Later, he would blame himself for risking Neil’s life over and over again.

But Andrew couldn’t think right now. Everything that he had been holding back until that point, everything he’d been repressing, erupted. He had been forcing himself not to feel - something he hadn’t had to do since his years in the foster home with Aaron and Drake. He had been forcing himself to stay focused, to stay senseless. But he couldn’t anymore. Neil had turned him into something he’d never wanted to be. Over the last five years, Neil had made him  _ feel  _ things and it was  _ so much sometimes  _ and most of it was good, so good it couldn’t be real (“It’s real,” Neil used to whisper to him when Andrew needed reassuring, in the early stages of their relationship. He would trace his fingers over their new tattoos, their initials inked on each other’s skin, and he would kiss Andrew’s knuckles and smile and put Andrew’s hand on his beating heart and say, “It’s real, I’m real,”) but sometimes it hurt so fucking much that Andrew wanted to kill himself just to make it stop and it  _ wouldn’t stop.  _ He took Neil’s lifeless hand and squeezed hard enough that he thought it might break Neil’s fingers. 

“Don’t you dare fucking leave me,” he growled, fury and sorrow and grief, crushing, choking grief making his voice break and rattle like gravel in his throat. “This is your fault, Neil. You did this. You told me you were doing this for us. You  _ knew  _ I didn’t want you to do it and you did it anyway. I hate you so fucking much.” Tears stung his eyes, and an agonized sob almost tore its way out of his throat before he leaned down and pressed his lips to Neil’s, hard, angry, heartbroken. Neil’s lips were cold. Andrew brought his hands to Neil’s face and said, “I will never forgive you for this. You can’t leave me like this after everything, Neil. Don’t.  _ Don’t leave me _ .”

From the beginning, Andrew had known that this would end badly. He told Neil not to go. He told Neil not to do it. He didn’t want Neil to go. But Neil insisted. He said it would work. He said they could pull it off, and then they could take the money and have the life Neil always wanted them to have. Neil had always been so stupid. So stubborn and stupid and Andrew  _ hated  _ him, hated him, hated him - 

But it was really his own fault, wasn’t it? He knew he could’ve stopped Neil from leaving if he really tried. He just didn’t try hard enough. And maybe, if he’d stuck it out for just a week or two longer, the Foxes would’ve succeeded. Maybe Neil would’ve been right. Maybe they would’ve pulled it off. But Andrew couldn’t wait. Andrew had to go and find him. It was his fault that Neil had killed Simon, and it was his fault that Neil was dead. 

The doctors forced Andrew away from the table and pressed the defibrillator to Neil’s chest. They charged up the electrical paddles, and Andrew struggled against the doctors restraining him as he watched Neil’s body arch up from the current. He screamed. It was full of anger and grief, guttural and raw. The doctors charged up the paddles again. 

“Clear,” one of them said, and Neil’s body arched up again.

It flopped, like a puppet cut from its strings. Andrew felt his heart bleeding inside his chest. He felt the jagged, broken pieces of it piercing through his lungs and cutting off his breath. The doctors charged the paddles again, and Neil’s body arched again. A fourth time. A fifth. Andrew wanted to burn the world.

And then, the heart monitor picked up a heartbeat.

The continuous drone of the flat line turned into a beep. A second. A third.

It was slow, and it was barely there.

But it was there.

Andrew stopped struggling. He stared at the screen, then at Neil. His eyes still weren’t opening - they hadn’t been open for a long time. Andrew couldn’t see his chest moving, either. His eyes fell sharp-edged on the doctors, stinging with anger and tears, demanding an explanation.

Every single one of the doctors’ shoulders slumped in relief. One of the ones who was still holding Andrew’s arm said, “He’s alive. Barely. But if he’s got a heartbeat, we can keep him stable and steady.”

Stable. Steady. Alive. The words passed through Andrew’s ears, registered in his numb brain.

“It will still be a while before he wakes up,” the doctor holding onto Andrew said. 

But he would wake up. Andrew repeated it out loud without hearing himself, and after the doctors exchanged looks, they nodded. 

“We think so,” one of them said.

Think so.

Andrew let the doctors guide him into a chair by Neil’s bedside, and then shook them off him violently. He informed them with a deadly, dangerous voice that if they tried to make him leave, they would regret it. 

He sat. And he waited by Neil’s side. It was all he could do now. More  _ waiting.  _ He’d done over a month of waiting for the job with Simon to be finished. Over a month of waiting for Neil to come back to him. And now he waited for Neil to be alive.

He waited for three days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG GIANT HUGE ASS SHOUTOUT TO MY ARTIST AND MY WIFE LILYPAWS, I OWE YOU A LIFE DEBT,,,, EVERYONE GIVE LEA SOME LOVE FOR THE AMAZING ART


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are almost done with this fic!! two more chapters after this! hope u guys are ready for the end
> 
> this chapter, we find out what the rest of the foxes are up to! and some kevaaron :-)

Above ground, the Foxes were in mourning.

The morning when they woke up after Andrew left, Renee didn’t have to tell them what happened. They knew. Nicky knew from the moment he saw Andrew’s empty bed, and he told the other Foxes, panic and worry in his eyes. Aaron wanted to go after his brother. He would’ve done anything. But Dan said no. 

Aaron hated her right then. So much. He hated all of them. Even Kevin, who put an arm around him and tried to console him.

And then Catherine arrived at their hotel and told them her husband had been murdered.

They knew that Andrew and Neil were involved. That much was obvious. When the police arrived to investigate, the evidence all over the room in Simon’s mansion was damning. The deal that the Columbia gangs had with the police force wouldn’t protect the Foxes now; that deal only helped them when it came to minor crimes, things that could be looked over and dismissed if a big enough bribe was given. But this was murder. Murder in Columbia wasn’t an anomaly, especially on the lower streets, but this was the murder of a high-profile man from the high city. Different rules applied here. The deaths of gang members and criminals on the lower streets was one thing, but the pigs couldn’t simply look past this one. The Foxes would have to be questioned.

They didn’t say much to the police. Andrew had left the hotel when they were all sleeping, they said. He didn’t tell anyone where he was going. All the Foxes had the same story, rock solid and air tight. Explaining Neil away was harder, because they didn’t want to reveal too many of the details of their undercover operation. But Catherine helped them with that. 

Catherine was all too satisfied that her husband was dead, and she followed through on her promise to make the Foxes millionaires. She handed them all checks and told them not to spend it all in one place. She helped keep the Foxes out of prison - they didn’t know what she told the cops, but it seemed to work. The Foxes were released from custody.

And Commissioner Higgins, Chief of Police, called on a manhunt for Andrew and Neil.

 

*

 

“We know they’re still alive,” Dan said later, when they’d all gone home, back to Fox Tower. Wymack was with them now, sitting near Kevin in the living room. He wore a crisp suit and a somber face. “They have to be. They probably went underground.”

“Abby called me last night,” Wymack announced. “Late, around three, four a.m. Said Minyard and Josten called her for help. Neil was banged up pretty bad. Andrew was barely holding it together.”

Aaron wanted to run from the room, and he would shoot down anyone who got in the way of him finding his brother. 

But Kevin squeezed his knee. The look on Kevin’s face was desperate, helpless, pleading.  _ Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go _ , it said.  _ I don’t care if you hate me for it. Just don’t go. _

Aaron grit his teeth and stood up from the couch. He started pacing the room. Kevin watched him, his chest tight. 

“It’s better not to reach out to anyone to find out where they are,” Dan said, though her face was grave. “Bee probably . . . Bee will have found them a way out. We have to trust that.”

Matt stood behind her and squeezed her shoulder. She leaned into him, body slumped against his side. Renee’s eyes were just a little bit sad, but she smiled. 

“They’ll keep each other safe,” she said strongly. “They’ll survive.”

Nicky was inconsolable. “He didn’t even say goodbye.” His voice was small and quiet. Aaron’s heart snapped in two, and his blood boiled with anger. 

Andrew had never been one for emotions, but Aaron thought that he would’ve at least said goodbye. After all they’d been through. The promises they’d made to each other.

“We all knew this would happen,” Allison said, shrugging. “We knew he wasn’t going to last long with Neil in that position. I could see it from the beginning. Andrew was always gonna go in after him and risk everything.”

Aaron almost lunged for her, but Nicky saw him move and pressed himself to Aaron’s side. Aaron wanted to push him away, into the wall. 

Aaron knew in the back of his head that Allison was right. He just didn’t want to admit it. He’d known what his brother would do from the beginning. He’d tried to warn Andrew, to tell him not to, but when it came to Neil, there was never any stopping him.

“We just have to trust that wherever they are, they’re okay,” Matt said, his chin threatening to wobble. He took a deep breath in, and Dan squeezed his middle. Matt had been close with Neil, the closest besides Andrew. 

“They’re strong,” Wymack said, lowering his head. He cleared his throat and passed a hand over his mouth. “Fighters. They’ll make it.”

Kevin still watched Aaron, his face a picture of sympathy and sorrow. Aaron couldn’t look at him. Not yet. He closed his eyes and tried not to let himself break. Andrew was still alive. He had to believe that. It wasn’t enough to comfort him. 

The twins had always been by each other’s sides. Aaron had Kevin now, and Andrew had Neil, and Aaron knew they would have to seperate eventually, live different lives with the ones they loved, but he’d always thought they would still be within reach of each other. He couldn’t imagine his life without Andrew. After years surviving together in foster care, after years of protecting each other through abuse, sheltering each other, fighting for each other, defending each other against harm and picking each other up when they fell, Aaron thought his brother would always be there. 

Nicky said his name. Aaron wanted to be there for his cousin - the only family he had left now - but if he opened his mouth, he would say all the wrong things. 

So he turned his back on the Foxes and left the den. 

 

*

 

Kevin followed him, of course. 

Aaron didn’t go far; just to an outdoor sports court a few blocks away. The Foxes liked to play with each other there during their downtime, whatever sport they could think of. They liked lacrosse and street hockey the most. The blacktop on the court was cracked, the painted white lines faded, and weeds grew along the sides of the chain-link fence. The small set of bleachers on the sidelines were rusty. The nets on the goals on either side of the court were torn and dirty. The two buildings the court sat between had broken windows.

It was one of Aaron’s favorite places. During games with the Foxes, he and Andrew would always team up, usually with Renee and Nicky on their side. Matt and Dan, Allison, Neil and Kevin would play on the opposite team. (Though sometimes Neil or Allison played referee to make the teams even). Aaron and Andrew were an unstoppable force together. Even when they lost (which was not often), it was only ever by half a point. 

“Baby,” Kevin said softly, approaching Aaron slowly. 

“Don’t,” Aaron said. Kevin stopped a few feet from him. Aaron heard him take in a shaky breath. 

“Are you mad at me?”

“Not at you,” Aaron said, but he couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice. He wanted to hate Andrew. He hated  _ Neil _ for making Andrew make the decision that had lead them to this point. He hated Neil for pulling Andrew away. He hated Andrew for letting himself be pulled. 

“Aaron,” Kevin whispered. He had moved closer. “Look at me, baby. Please.”

Aaron closed his eyes. If he looked at Kevin, he didn’t want Kevin to see the rage. The fire. The fury. Kevin didn’t deserve that. 

He took several deep breaths, and Kevin waited for him, letting him have the time he needed. When Aaron finally turned to face him, Kevin lifted a hand. He put it against Aaron’s cheek, brushing his thumb under his eye. 

“I would have done the same thing for you,” he whispered. “If you were in the same position Neil was, I would have gone in after you. I would have risked everyone and everything if it meant I could save you.”

He leaned in, and Aaron let himself be kissed. His breath shuddered against Kevin’s lips, and then he felt wetness sliding down his cheeks, and Kevin was holding him so tight, kissing the tears away. 

“I know,” Kevin soothed, his voice cracking. “I know, baby. I’m here.” He would miss Andrew and Neil, too. The last five years with them had made them family. Andrew was important to Kevin because he was important to Aaron, and sometimes Neil and Kevin would spend time together and talk about anything at all. Kevin knew something of what it was like to be Neil; Neil’s past and Kevin’s history with Riko fell on a similar line, and they had bonded over that. 

Aaron cried against Kevin’s chest, and he hated it because his anger started to dissolve when he realized Kevin was right. Aaron would’ve done the same thing, too. If it were Kevin, Aaron would’ve murdered for him without a second thought. He would always do his best to protect Kevin. Aaron knew his brother made the only choice he could. 

It would hurt, for a while. It would be hard not to feel empty. And not just for Aaron - for the rest of the Foxes, too. The absence of Andrew and Neil would be a sizeable hole in all their hearts. But they had always known they were going to split up anyway. They had all known this was going to be their last job, their last ride together. They had to move on. They had to keep living. And they just had to hope that wherever Neil and Andrew were, they were safe. They were happy. God, Aaron hoped his brother was happy. He deserved that.

Later, when Kevin and Aaron returned to Fox Tower, Jeremy Knox and Jean Moreau were there. 

And they had a message from Andrew.

 

*

 

Nicky hugged his cousin fiercely when Aaron walked back into the room, and Aaron hugged him back. Nicky gave Aaron a watery smile when he pulled back to look at Aaron. Aaron squeezed his arm. 

“I believe in Andrew,” Nicky said, eyes wet with unshed tears. He sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “He’ll be okay, you know? They both will.” He shrugged, trying for a grin. “Who knows? Maybe they’ll go to Mexico, change their names and elope.”

The corner of Aaron’s mouth twitched up. Kevin smiled.

Dan ushered Jeremy and Jean inside, leading them into the living room where everyone was still gathered. Wymack was in the kitchen, muttering quietly into his phone. Kevin wanted to go see who he was talking to, ask if there was anything wrong, but Aaron still needed him. So he took Aaron’s hand and stayed firmly by his side. 

“We’re here with a message,” Jeremy said. “We helped Andrew and Neil. Got them to Abby’s.”

“He called you for help?” Aaron demanded. He barely had the time to be hurt and angry all over again that Andrew hadn’t called  _ him _ for help before he realized that it’s what he would’ve done, too. He wouldn’t have wanted to put his family and the other Foxes in danger. Jeremy and Jean were the next best option; the Trojans had always been among the Foxes’ closest allies.

Jeremy nodded and looked at Jean, who looked back at him with intensity. After a moment Jeremy sighed. “Neil was . . . bad. Really bad.”

“What happened to him?” Matt asked, fighting to keep his voice steady. Dan took his hand and squeezed it.

“Looked like a knife wound,” Jeremy said. Jean nodded in confirmation. 

“From what I saw, it damaged his liver, maybe his lungs,” Jean said quietly. “He was in shock, unresponsive.” Matt cursed. Allison looked away. Kevin tightened his grip on Aaron’s hand. Renee put a hand on the cross necklace she always wore. 

“And Andrew?” she asked. 

“Covered in blood, but it was mostly Neil’s, I think,” Jeremy said. “Bruised. His face was pretty beat up. But nothing serious.”

A great, heaving sigh of relief took over Aaron. Andrew wasn’t hurt. Much.That was something. 

“So what’s the message?” he asked. Jeremy looked at him, and his eyes were sad and sympathetic. But he turned to the rest of the Foxes before he addressed Aaron directly.

“He tells all of you to have a good life,” he said, his words hitting each of them in different ways. “To not waste your time worrying about him or Neil. Focus on the money and what you’re going to do with it. Renee, he says you’d better get started on that women and children’s shelter as soon as possible.” Renee smiled. 

Jeremy turned to Nicky. “He said to tell you thank you. He said you would know what for.” That was it. But it was enough to make Nicky put a hand over his mouth, his tears finally falling. 

Thank you for rescuing the twins from foster care. Thank you for making the three of them a family, Aaron thought.

Then Jeremy turned to Kevin. “He said to tell you that you had better spend the rest of your life making sure Aaron is never alone and that he always knows his worth. And to make sure he goes to med school and gets his degree.”

Kevin nodded, his eyes shining and fierce. He pulled Aaron close. 

And finally Jeremy turned to Aaron, and Aaron held his breath. Jeremy gave him a small smile. 

“He said to tell you that you can hate him if you want, but that he’s not sorry he did it. He said he knows you would do the same thing for Kevin if you were him, and to not be stupid about it.” Jeremy paused, and his eyes got softer. “He wants you to know that you’re gonna be okay without him.”

Aaron’s breath left him in a rush. Kevin held him up so he wouldn’t fall. 

“What, I don’t get a message?” Wymack asked, coming back in from the kitchen. “After all I did for the little punks, letting them into my gang, giving them a roof to live under?” Jeremy grinned. 

“Andrew said you’d say that,” he said. “He also said to tell you that you already know what you did. You just want a thank you to feel special.”

Wymack chuckled, and the Foxes smiled.

“Was there anything else?” Aaron asked quietly. “Anything about where they’re going?”

Jeremy shook his head. “No. I’m sorry. But your friend - Betsy. She was headed to Abby’s when we left.”

They all let out a breath. They’d already known about as much, but the confirmation was a relief all the same. Bee had valuable connections. Andrew and Neil would be okay. 

And Aaron would be, too. It hurt a little to realize, but Andrew’s message was the most he would’ve expected from his brother. 

Aaron leaned against Kevin, letting him hold up his weight. 

Yeah. He was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter on tuesday, and the final chapter on thursday!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting earlier today since i'm up earlier than usual and i have time before class! i really like this chapter, i hope you guys do too!! mild smut, nothing /too/ explicit. the rating of this fic is mature i think, i didn't mark it as explicit so i don't think there's anything too detailed, but i guess that depends on anyone's definition. anyway i hope y'all enjoy!

While Neil recovered, Andrew searched the room for medical supplies to clean up his own face. His wounds weren’t that serious; his split lip stung, and there was a cut above his eyebrow. He had a shiner the size of Texas and he couldn’t open his eye all the way. His nose wasn’t quite broken, but it hurt, and he had to tape up his chest to fix what was probably a bruised rib. He found some painkillers in one of the cabinets, swallowed a few dry and pocketed the rest. 

The doctors brought in food and water for him. They didn’t try to talk to him, but he let them check up on Neil to make sure he was recovering properly. They said it looked good. The signs were positive. Neil was healing. 

Andrew sat right back by Neil’s side and didn’t move again until Neil’s eyes finally fluttered open.

 

*

 

When consciousness came back to Neil, the world was fuzzy. 

When his eyes blinked slowly open, they closed again almost immediately to block out the blinding white light in his vision. 

But then that light cleared, and the first thing Neil saw was Andrew. 

Neil didn’t smile. He remembered everything that had happened, and it hurt more than the physical pain.

Andrew didn’t smile, either, but he took Neil’s hand, his face carefully blank. He lifted his other hand and brushed Neil’s hair back from his forehead, traced the lines of his face, the shell of his ear. Neil closed his eyes again and breathed unsteadily. 

Andrew could see as clear as day that Neil was still affected by what had happened. By what he’d done. He probably would be for a while. Andrew let his hatred filter through him - his hatred for Simon, that he had such an effect on Neil; his hatred leftover towards Neil for agreeing to this in the first place; his hatred for the Foxes for putting them on this job; his hatred for himself (strongest of all) for letting this happen - 

And he let it dissolve. Neil was awake. He was  _ alive _ . 

And that was more important than anything else.

 

*

 

It took another few days before Neil was back on his feet. He was quieter now than he’d been before. Andrew noticed it right away, and he tried not to let it destroy him. He gave Neil the time he needed to process. He stayed close to Neil, but he didn’t touch him as much as he would have before, even though it made him feel like he was crumbling into pieces. 

Andrew digested any residual feelings of anger and resentment and let them be replaced with relief. He only let himself be grateful that Neil was alive. As long as Neil was alive, Andrew could work through everything else. 

So he gave Neil space.

 

*

 

Neil didn’t know how long they stayed underground. It was easy enough to find out where they were - he’d known about the Foxes’ emergency backup plan, and it made sense that Andrew would take this route, would bring them here. Bee probably helped. Neil must’ve been unconscious for that part. He remembered Abby, Jeremy and Jean, but that part was hazy. 

What was still vivid and visceral in his mind was the memory of killing Simon.

Neil felt Andrew’s presence always nearby him in the days that followed, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. The doctors helped him walk again and made sure his stitches were healing nicely. He’d needed a blood transfusion, sutures on his liver and a shunt in his lungs. Apparently, he’d needed CPR, too. He didn’t remember that part. He’d died. For a few seconds, at least. Neil didn’t even want to think about what that must have done to Andrew. The guilt would tear him up from the inside out.

He wondered what was happening aboveground. He wondered how the Foxes were handling everything, if the cops were after them. He wondered if Catherine had given them their money. 

Neil almost wanted to laugh when he thought about that. The rest of the Foxes had probably gotten their cut, but Neil and Andrew didn’t get a chance to claim theirs. The irony in that was painful. The money was the whole reason Neil had gotten them into this mess, and he wouldn’t even get that. They’d done all this for nothing.

The doctors made friends with Neil, and he and Andrew were given their own (separate) rooms to stay in for as long as they needed to. Neil knew it wasn’t safe to go back aboveground, not until they knew exactly what was happening up there, and so they had no choice but to stay in hiding. The doctors were nice to Neil. Friendly. They brought him and Andrew new clothes, kept them fed and sheltered. The medical facility wasn’t exactly meant to be used as a living space, but it was the only place they had for now, and the doctors did what they could to make it comfortable for Andrew and Neil. 

Neil didn’t ask how much time was passing, or what day or month it was. He spent his time healing, both physically and mentally, going through the motions. He wanted to talk to Andrew, but he felt like he didn’t know how. He felt like everything he wanted to say wouldn’t be enough. 

So they didn’t talk much. Hardly touched. There was something missing between them, and Neil felt like it was his fault. He  _ knew  _ it was his fault. He didn’t know how to fix it. 

In the time he spent alone - there was so much time alone, even if Andrew was in the same room with him - Neil forced himself to think about Simon. About what happened. It took him what felt like months, but slowly, slowly, he came to terms with what he’d done. He spent sleepless nights alone in bed, letting his guilty feelings run their course. When he did sleep, nightmares plagued him - about Simon, bloody and mutilated; about Simon moving over him, calling him sweetheart, caressing him softly (more than a few times, Neil woke up in the middle of the night thinking Simon was coming into his room); nightmares about Andrew pinned underneath Simon, nightmares where Simon bashed Andrew’s face in until there was nothing left of it. Nightmares where Andrew yelled at him, shouting vile words that pierced Neil’s heart. Nightmares where Andrew made love to him, soft and tender, and whispered, “I hate you,” and he meant it. Those were the worst ones. 

Neil didn’t talk to Andrew about his nightmares, but he talked to one of the doctors. Her name was Katelyn, and she was a friend of Bee’s. She was Neil’s favorite. She was kind, and genuine, and she didn’t push or pry. She was always patient with him on the days when he couldn’t get anything out at all. She listened to him about Andrew. She helped Neil heal, day by day. Helped him work through his feelings.

And then, eventually, Neil stopped feeling guilty. He started to realize that Simon had messed him up, and it wasn’t his fault.

He wasn’t broken. Just a little bent out of shape, maybe, but not broken. Not completely. Not permanently.

And after Neil realized that, he and Andrew slowly, slowly found their way back to each other.

 

*

 

Andrew didn’t talk to any of the doctors. He didn’t talk to anyone, except the occasional comment to Neil. 

“Are you sleeping okay?” he would ask on days when the bags under Neil’s eyes were a little more pronounced. Neil would nod and try for a smile that didn’t come across in his eyes. He wouldn’t look at Andrew for very long. They were always within reach of each other, but there was a chasm between them that tore Andrew’s heart into pieces.

“Did you eat today?” Andrew would ask when he thought Neil was skinnier than he’d been before. And again, Neil would nod and give him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

There was more he wanted to ask.  _ Why won’t you look at me? Why won’t you say my name? Why won’t you let me hold your hand? _

But he didn’t. 

Andrew knew Neil was talking to the doctors. He never tried to eavesdrop on the conversation, respecting Neil’s privacy, but he couldn’t help but feel hurt. If Neil needed comforting, why wouldn’t he come to Andrew?

Did he feel like he couldn’t anymore?

_ Do you love me still? Or did he take that away from you? _

_ Was it my fault? _

Every night, Andrew would say, “Night, Neil,” as they stood outside the doors to their rooms. Neil would whisper, “Night,” and disappear. 

Andrew wished Bee would come back down and check on them, just so he could talk to  _ someone.  _

But he cycled through his feelings alone.

He wondered if it would be like this forever. And he thought that as long as Neil was alive, still breathing, he could learn to live with it. He would have to. 

He’d just have to learn to live with the pain of missing him, too.

 

*

 

They didn’t sleep in the same room. Neil was used to having his own room now, since Simon. He was used to sleeping alone. Before the job, he and Andrew had slept in the same bed every night for five years. It had only been a few months without that, but it was enough to change Neil. He had adjusted to something new. It took him a long time to get over it. 

But then one night, he woke up and felt nothing but a glaring, crushing emptiness. The bed was too big without Andrew in it. Too cold. It felt wrong. He’d been missing it all these months. Neil berated himself for being so stupid. It shouldn’t have taken him this long. He’d hated all the days of not talking to Andrew, of not touching him. Andrew had given him his space, and Neil didn’t blame him for that - he’d needed it, he thought- but at the same time, Neil almost wished Andrew would’ve yelled at him, demanded to know why they weren’t speaking. Neil had wished Andrew would’ve just grabbed him and kissed him and made him realize he was being an idiot. 

So much time wasted, Neil thought. 

He got out of bed. Andrew slept in the room next to his. They were never very far away from each other, at least physically. It was dark in the facility when Neil stepped outside into the hallway. 

He hesitated outside Andrew’s door, raising his fist to knock. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Before he could knock, the door opened. Neil stepped back. (He hadn’t known that every night when they were asleep, every night since they’d been given their own rooms, Andrew always came to check on him, just to make sure he was still breathing). 

Andrew froze when he saw Neil standing there. Neil stopped and curled in on himself, arms coming around to hug himself, shoulders hunched. He blushed. 

“I - ” he started. But the words wouldn’t come. He bit his lip and shook his head, and he couldn’t even meet Andrew’s gaze. He didn’t know what to say. He’d practiced it with Katelyn, what he might say when he finally worked up the courage to talk to Andrew again, but now those words escaped him in the face of Andrew’s empty expression.

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m  _ sorry,”  _ he whispered, the words choked.

And then Andrew was crushing Neil to his chest, arms wrapped tight around him. 

Neil sobbed into Andrew’s neck, his own arms lifting to wrap around Andrew and hold him as tightly as he could, like he’d never get to do it again, to make up for all the months of not touching him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He was crying - he  _ hated  _ that Simon had made him so weak, so vulnerable (“It’s okay to be vulnerable,” Katelyn had told him with a gentle smile, “That doesn’t make you weak”). 

Andrew rubbed his back, his face buried in Neil’s shoulder. “Shh,” he said. He felt overcome, his throat choked with emotion he didn’t know how to deal with. If he opened his mouth to speak, the floodgates would open and a thousand words would come pouring out, and Andrew didn’t want to ruin it. The weight of Neil in his arms again, warm and soft and beautiful, made him feel weak and strong at once. He would do anything and everything in the world to keep Neil by his side for the rest of his life. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Andrew pulled Neil into his room and closed the door behind them. 

For a moment they just looked at each other, nervous, shy, uncertain. It had been days, weeks, months without this. The air felt heavy and charged between them. Neil’s hands clutched desperately at Andrew’s shirt, and Andrew gripped Neil’s hips, pulling him closer, aligning their bodies. They fit together so easily. They always had. Andrew closed his eyes at the feeling of it again. It was still so familiar. He thought he’d lost it.

“Kiss me,” Neil whispered, his lip trembling as tears fell. “I need you to kiss me.”

Andrew did. He was soft. Gentle. Careful, at first. He was holding himself back - he wanted more than anything to press Neil against the wall, go deep, explore his mouth the way he’d always liked to do before.

Neil made the choice for him. He pulled Andrew closer, tongue sliding into his mouth. Andrew could taste his tears. Neil begged, “Kiss me like you used to. Like the last time.” His hands rubbed up Andrew’s chest, thumbs brushing over his nipples over Andrew’s shirt. Andrew shivered and put more force into his kiss, biting Neil’s lip. “ _ Yes, _ ” Neil cried, “I need you, baby.”

The last time, he’d said. The night before they left for the job. When they’d made love, slow and sweet and tender. That time, they were saying goodbye. 

This was hello again.  _ Hello, hello, hello, I fucking missed you so much -  _

Andrew picked Neil up, hooking his legs around his waist. He carried him to the bed. Their mouths never separated. They held onto each other desperately. Neil kept crying as Andrew lowered him down, and for a moment Andrew hesitated, his heart in his throat, but then Neil pulled at him, hands on his face, bringing him back down to kiss him and he whispered, “I need you, I need this, I’m so sorry it’s been so long - ”

“Don’t,” Andrew growled against his lips. “Don’t say you’re sorry.” It didn’t matter. None of it mattered now, just as long as Andrew got to have this again, just as long as they would be okay. 

“I love you,” Neil cried, and Andrew kissed his cheeks, his chin, his jaw, his forehead, his neck, everywhere he could reach. 

He made it like the last time. Andrew went slow, taking his time. He had to, because it had been months for both of them, and Neil had to get used to him again. Andrew prepped him slowly with his fingers first, swallowing Neil’s soft, sweet moans, those pretty sounds he’d missed so much that it hurt. Then he prepped him with his mouth, and Neil still tasted like heaven, still tasted exactly like Andrew remembered.

Neil still remembered what it felt like to be with Andrew, and his body remembered the motions. He cried even more at that. He thought Simon had stolen that from him. 

Andrew held him in the cage of his arms, and it felt so  _ right.  _ Neil’s heart felt almost whole again, pieced back together with every single one of the kisses Andrew gave him. Andrew rocked against him, his breath stuttering into groans, and it hurt just a little bit at first, but Neil rocked back until the pain went away and all he could feel was Andrew, Andrew, Andrew. 

Andrew cradled Neil’s face in his hands, delicate and still as beautiful as it had always been, still as beautiful as the day they first met. He stroked Neil’s hair, trailed his fingers over his body, touched him everywhere he could reach, re-learning his curves and edges and memorizing his shape all over again. It had been months without this, and Andrew was going to spend the rest of his life making up for it. 

“Oh, baby,” Neil moaned, fingers clutching at Andrew’s skin, digging into his back, tracing over the fox tattoo there. When his head tilted back, Andrew leaned in and nipped at his neck, marking him. Neil moved faster, guiding one of Andrew’s hands down to where he wanted it. “Like that, Drew, right there.” He gasped and pulled Andrew’s mouth to his again, squeezing his thighs around Andrew’s, his whole body shuddering. He was so warm and he felt so good and Andrew was never letting anyone else have this ever again for as long as they both lived. No one else was worthy of this. Not even he was. Nobody deserved to have this, to have Neil like this. 

“I’m so sorry,” Neil kept saying as Andrew kissed his neck, tongue sweeping over the bruises he left there. Andrew shook his head, holding Neil tighter. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, angel.” And there wasn’t, not now, not anymore. It didn’t matter. Andrew’s anger had disappeared the second he felt Neil’s lips on his again. There wasn’t anything else but this, just the two of them. As long as they had each other, everything else would be okay. 

Neil moaned at the endearment that slipped from Andrew’s mouth. He’d never called Neil that before, and what it did to both of them was earth-shattering.

“Look at me, Neil,” Andrew whispered, his heart full and chest bursting, and Neil did, their eyes on each other as they both came to the edge. 

 

*

 

Afterwards, they lay together for hours, just looking at each other. Andrew kept his hand on the side of Neil’s head, fingers curling in his hair, and Neil kept his hand on Andrew’s neck, tracing his collarbone. They kissed every now and then, slowly. 

Neil fell asleep first, curled up against Andrew’s chest. Just before he drifted off, he whispered in a small voice, “Thank you for not hating me after all this. I was so afraid you would.”

He was asleep before Andrew could form a response. 

So he just pulled Neil closer. He kissed the top of his head, hand carding through auburn waves. His heartbeat was unsteady, and his breath came out shaking.

“Never,” Andrew mouthed to the dark room.

 

*

 

When they woke up in the morning, Bee was there with news of the world above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOMST IS READY FOR THE FINAL CHAPTER


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE! i decided to upload the last chapter today instead of tomorrow! HAPPY VALENTINES DAY YALL

“The police have stopped their search,” Bee told them. “For the most part. Commissioner Higgins is calling it off.”

Andrew and Neil shared a look, their grip on each other’s hands tightening. They stood in Katelyn’s office, the door closed to give them privacy.

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t still suspects,” Bee continued. “But the police have realized that you’re gone, and they can’t find you. They’re getting tired of wasting the resources.”

“And the Foxes?” Neil asked quietly. Despite the fact that the police were ending their manhunt, it wouldn’t be safe for Neil and Andrew to return to Columbia. They couldn’t go back to the Foxes. Neil just wanted to know that they were okay.

“They’re fine,” Bee gave them a soft smile. “They’re safe. They were questioned, but no one was arrested. Catherine helped them.” She paused and reached into the bag she carried. “David gave me these to give to you.”

She handed two envelopes to them. Neil took one, and Andrew took the other.

They were checks. From Catherine. For three million dollars each. Neil’s hands almost started to shake when he read the amount.

He looked back up at Bee, who was still smiling. Then he looked back at Andrew. The world opened up before Neil, new and big and bright.

They had their money.

They could finally leave here.

Neil smiled. He laughed.

Catherine had given the Foxes a sum total of twenty-seven million dollars, three million for each of them. It was less than half the total worth of Simon Ferdinand’s investment company, which Catherine was now in possession of. But it was enough. Enough for each of the Foxes to invest in their dreams.

More than enough for Neil and Andrew to have the life Neil wanted for them.

Andrew supposed that life wouldn’t actually be so bad, now. If it made Neil happy, it was worth it.

And he would do anything to keep that joyful smile on Neil’s face.

Neil threw his arms around Andrew and laughed again, and it almost made Andrew smile, too. He closed his eyes and buried his nose in the column of Neil’s throat.

“Where should we go?” Neil asked when he pulled back, staring at the check again.

“Anywhere you want,” Andrew said. Anywhere in the world. He didn't care, as long as they never separated again. 

Neil grinned.

 

*

 

Nicky had predicted it right, in the end. (Though of course Andrew and Neil didn’t know that). With Bee’s help, they went to Mexico. Los Cabos. They settled in a nice little villa in a small town overlooking the sea.

They did change their names. (They became Angel and Joseph to their neighbors and the few friends they made. They were the same people Neil and Andrew had been - and to each other, in their hearts, they were still Neil and Andrew - but Angel and Joseph were happier. More peaceful. They were _freer._ )

And in a quiet ceremony held on the beach on a balmy summer evening, they did elope.

The breeze came through their bedroom window all the time, and in the mornings, Andrew woke up to sunlight spreading over Neil’s body, light illuminating the freckles on his naked back. Andrew would trace the scar in Neil’s side, left by his own knife. Neil would wake up, stretch, smile contentedly and mumble sleepily.

“Baby,” he’d whisper, hands reaching out for him, needy, and Andrew would kiss him. They would make love, lazy and slow in the mornings, and they would spend their afternoons and nights together, together, always together. Alive. Happy.

They took in a couple of stray cats off the street. They were outdoor cats, mostly, and they liked to prowl at night, but during the day they would always return to the seaside villa where Andrew and Neil made their home.

There were letters. Andrew kept them in a drawer in the nightstand by the bed, where he also kept a tattered copy of _The Outsiders_ he’d found in a secondhand bookshop down the street. The letters were from Aaron. They were all handwritten, all delivered through means orchestrated by Bee and her network of underground contacts. Andrew never wrote anything back. He didn’t have to. Years ago, just before he and Neil had left for Mexico, Andrew had written letters to Aaron, Nicky, and Renee. He’d given them to Bee to deliver. Neil had put his own messages in them, too, for the rest of the Foxes. That was the last bit of contact they’d had with their family. They’d said everything they wanted to say.

Aaron wrote a letter every couple of months. They never had Andrew and Neil’s new address on them (none of the Foxes knew exactly where they lived, only that they’d crossed the border), but they were always delivered. Bee made sure of that. In them, Aaron gave updates on the former Foxes and their new lives. It might have made Neil and Andrew sad to hear, knowing that they would never see their friends again, but it didn’t. Neil was always happy when Andrew read those parts of the letters to him. And Andrew felt calm. At peace.

Dan had found replacements to carry on the Foxes’ name. A girl named Robin was the leader for a new group of thieves who now lived in Fox Tower (Robin had claimed Andrew and Neil’s old room. She took care of their things they’d left behind, what little there was of them. Kept them safe. She read Andrew’s old copy of _The Outsiders_ constantly). She reminded them all of Andrew, Aaron said. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.

Dan ended up buying Eden’s Twilight, and she turned it into something to be proud of. She made Roland, Andrew’s old friend, the manager. Matt bought the boxing ring where he used to fight and turned it into a professional venue. He visited his mother weekly, and she was doing well.

Renee found an old church she liked and turned it into the Walker-Reynolds Shelter for Women & Children. It was a thriving place. Renee kept the people there happy, and she and Allison never turned anyone away.

Nicky moved back to the high city to be with Erik. They got married, Aaron said. The ceremony was nice. Nicky was happy. They were thinking about adopting.

Kevin stayed near his father, and he helped him invest in businesses all over Columbia. They created an empire in Kayleigh Day’s name, one that she would’ve been proud of.

Aaron was going to med school in the city, and he was doing well. He was almost at the top of his class. He and Kevin had their own place now. They had a dog. Aaron thought Kevin may have been thinking about proposing, and Aaron was thinking he might say yes.

Every one of them was happy.

 

*

 

Andrew was reading Aaron’s latest letter when Neil came through the door, camera hanging around his neck. He’d started up a little photography business in their area. It had taken a while to figure out what Neil really wanted to do with his life, what he enjoyed, but he discovered he liked taking pictures, and he had a natural talent for it. Their neighbors and friends always commissioned him for the beautiful portraits he took. Neil made his money by taking pictures, and Andrew made his living as a cook for a local restaurant. Neither of them really needed to work - the money they'd gotten from Catherine would be enough to sustain them for a long, long time. But they both liked their jobs. They liked feeling normal.

Neil smiled and approached Andrew where he was sitting in his chair by the window. The view from their villa was of the ocean, and Andrew often liked to sit and watch the water. Andrew lifted his face, and Neil leaned down to kiss him, rubbing his shoulder. “Mmm. Hi, baby.” He unstrapped his camera, placed it on the desk, and sat in Andrew’s lap, legs straddling Andrew’s thighs. Andrew rubbed his back, keeping Aaron’s letter out of the way so it wouldn’t get bent or ripped.

Neil mouthed hungrily at Andrew’s neck, making whiny little noises in the back of his throat. He was still a lot clingier than he used to be, even after all the time that had passed. They both knew it was because of Simon, but they never really talked about it. And Andrew didn’t mind, really. He liked it. He never grew tired of indulging Neil. 

They’d healed, for the most part, during their time in the underground medical facility, but it was a step-by-step process, a day-by-day adjustment. There were still the occasional nightmares for Neil. Andrew got them too, sometimes. And whenever he saw signs of Neil’s time with Simon showing on Neil’s face or in his actions, the old feelings of anger would rise up again, just for a moment. But they got through it together. They kept each other balanced.

“What does it say?” Neil asked, tongue tracing a wet line over Andrew’s neck, nose tracing along Andrew's stubbled jaw. Neil still had beard burn on his thighs from last night, and it looked like he was eager for more. Andrew had trouble concentrating under Neil's ministrations, and he cleared his throat to read part of Aaron’s letter. He could feel Neil’s cheeky smile against his skin.

“He thinks Kevin’s gonna propose soon,” he said. This made Neil pull back, his eyes wide. He smiled as he looked at the letter in Andrew’s hands.

When he turned back to Andrew, he brushed their noses together.

“Maybe they’ll honeymoon in Mexico,” Neil said quietly, lips still turned up in a soft smile. Andrew raised his hand to brush his thumb over Neil’s cheek, letting himself swim in those blue eyes. 

“Yeah,” Andrew said. “Maybe.”

He put his brother’s letter down and put his arms around Neil, and then he stood up and carried his husband to their bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING

**Author's Note:**

> i will be posting a chapter every other day! i learned my lesson from last time, and this fic is already completely written, it's finished and editing is done for the most part i think, so keeping to my posting schedule should be easy. i really hope you guys like this!


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